Stars That Fill Polluted Skies
by The Next-Gen Fanatics
Summary: For they are all but a piece of one big puzzle, trying to fit into the wrong places at the wrong time; but every now and then, they'll get one part of the puzzle done. :::The NextGen Fanatics and their puzzle pieces - Forum Collab:::
1. Lorcan Scamander

**character/pairing: **Lorcan & Lily/Lorcan

**written by**: PrincessPearl/Pearl

…

Shining sun? Check.

Singing birds? Check.

Clear blue skies? Check.

"This is the perfect kind of day to meet the love of your life," his father tells him, smiling broadly as he wraps an arm around his wife. "I met your mother on a day just like this, you know."

Luna laughs. "I fell into a river and he fished me out."

Lorcan blinks. "Who am I meeting today, then?"

"Who says it's about _you_?" Lysander demands indignantly. "It could mean the love of _my_ life."

His brother turns to look at him with unsettlingly bright silver-blue eyes. "It could," Lorcan agrees amiably after a moment of thinking. "Let's get going."

Lysander stares after him in bewilderment. Rolf and Luna exchange a smile over their son's head and open the door for them all to walk through.

"Who's going to be our age over there?" Lysander asks as they walk the short distance from their new house to the one just over the hill. "You said they had three kids!"

"The youngest is your age," Luna answers absently. "Her name is Lily."

Lysander makes a face. "A girl? Why not a boy?"

"You can play with her brothers," Rolf suggests. "They're not that much older."

Lorcan jumps over a stone in the path. "What's wrong with girls?"

"They're all noisy and annoying," Lysander mutters, no doubt thinking of their cousins on his father's side.

"I'm sure they're not all like Olivia and Maybelle," Lorcan defends.

"You shouldn't make generalizations," Luna adds, finger-combing Lysander's vanilla-blond hair, the same shade and texture as hers. "Lily is a very sweet girl. She's my goddaughter, you know."

"Which means she's amazing," Rolf grins, brushing a kiss to his wife's cheek. "Hey, I think I see Ginny!"

Lorcan and Lysander look over at the house over the hill and find a figure standing in front with trademark orange-red hair that anyone could recognize a mile away.

"Luna!" cries Ginny Potter happily, rushing forward to embrace her friend once they're in hugging distance. "It's so good to see you! Poor Lily's been wondering where you went away to! Oh, and Rolf, hello! And Lorcan and Lysander—my, you've grown quite a bit since I last saw you."

Rolf laughs, accepting his own hug from her. "Last time you saw them, they were in diapers."

Ginny smiles and ruffles their hair—one almost silver, the other almost golden—and says, "Yes, and I'm very glad I don't have to do that anymore."

The adults share a laugh, only interrupted by a little redhead girl flinging herself out the open door and into Luna's arms, laughing in delight and amazement. Lorcan and Lysander watch on curiously as their mother smiles affectionately at the girl and hugs her back.

"You're back!" beams Lily Potter, pulling back just enough to flash her godmather a gap-toothed smile. "For good?"

"For good, Lily-flower," Luna laughs, nodding as Lily dives in for another hug.

"Hey, now, don't I get a hug?" Rolf interjects, and Lily practically flies from Luna's arms to his.

"Lorcan, Lysander," Luna smiles at her sons. "This is Lily Potter."

Lysander appears to be a little afraid of the tiny redheaded firework as Rolf sets her back down onto the ground and she turns her bright smile upon the two boys.

"Hello!" she greets cheerfully as Ginny beckons Rolf and Luna inside to let the kids play in the front yard. "Which one of you is Lorcan, and which is Lysander?"

"He's Lysander," says Lorcan, pointing a thumb at his brother. "And I think you've frightened him."

"She has not!" Lysander protests.

Lily giggles. "Daddy says I do that a lot." She extends a friendly hand. "I'm Lily."

"Lorcan," he says, clasping her hand. "You're very cheerful."

"I usually have Pink-Winged Dazettes in my hair," she informs him, matching his smile.

Lysander groans. "Not you, too!"

"Can I see?" Lorcan asks, ignoring his brother with the ease of years of practice.

"Oh, not right now," she tells him. They're up in my room, eating liquorice. Did you know that's their favorite food?"

"There's no such thing!" Lysander attempts to interject.

"Don't be silly," Lily tells him, turning her bright hazel gaze on him. "Of course they're real. I can show you, if you'd like."

"I'd like to," grins Lorcan.

"I wouldn't," Lysander grumbles. "Where are your brothers?"

"In the backyard, arguing over who gets to ride Daddy's new broom," Lily answers. "Come on, Lorc—can I call you 'Lorc'?—let's go to my room!"

"You can call me 'Lorc'!" he says to her on their way through the front door and up the staircase and into her room, slightly dizzy from Lily's uncontainable energy.

"Oh, good, because I would have done it anyway," she informs him cheerfully, swinging open the door to her room and entering. "Here they are!"

Lorcan inhales sharply in wonder and amazement and kneels beides her bedtime table, instantly drawn to the little teapot full of red liquorice and tiny, pink-winged creatures with round bodies and saucer-like blue eyes and thin antennas atop their heads.

"How'd you manage to catch them?" he asks in astonishment, holding out a finger to let one of the Dazettes flutter onto his hand.

"They love liquorice," Lily beams. "So, I bought a little teapot full of that red liquorice and then I put it beside my bed when I went to sleep because I could see the Dazettes sticking to my hair during the day—you know they like red things—and then over night, they hopped from my hair to the liquorice and they've been there for a week now. I think as long as they can eat, they'll stay. Oh, and I—"

"You're rambling," Lorcan interrupts, amused. "I know this stuff, too, Lily. My mother told me about it."

Lily grins. "She told _me_ about it, too!"

For a moment, they simply stand there, smiling at each other like little children discovering a whole new world of magic.

And then Lorcan says, "We ought to be best friends. That way, we can find animals together and draws pictures and write stories, just like Mum and Dad."

Her hazel eyes light up. "That would be awesome! Let's do it!"

He gets to his feet, brushing himself off, the Pink-Winged Dazette still clinging to his finger. "Best friends."

Lily quickly attaches another Pink-Winged Dazette to her own finger and extends her hand. "Best friends."

They grin at each other and shake hands, the Dazettes rubbing together and making a bright, chirping noise. Outside, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the sky is still a gorgeous shade of blue, beaming down upon the two children who have just pledged their friendship to each other.

Because everyone knows that friendships pledged by Pink-Winged Dazettes are the sort of friendships that never, ever die.

**Explanatory A/N: This is for the NextGen Fanatics forum collab. We will each be putting up a oneshot, each from a different author, each centering around the theme of new beginnings. All of us have a different oneshot centering around a different character. **

**So please, leave a review and tell us what you think?**


	2. Teddy Lupin

**title**: the beginning of a problem

**character/pairing: **Teddy & Teddy/Lily/Victoire

**written by**: LittleMissWesley/Wevi

_i'm scared to see the ending_

_why are we pretending this is nothing?_

('the story of us" - taylor swift)

**...**

The story starts like all stories start: with a boy with blue-green hair and eyes like a cloudy sky, and a girl with a bright, white smile and a silvery, shining glow.

And they grow up together, go to school together, and it's always _TeddyandVicky,_always, always, always. They kiss when he's 17 and she's 15 and it's all just _perfect._

But then someone new enters the picture. Lily Luna Potter, everyone's favorite happy little Hufflepuff. And she's really always supported _TeddyandVicky,_but now she's suddenly gone from a bubbly 9 year-old to a more daring 14 year-old.

So things start to change. Because Lily's set her sights on Teddy. And what Lily Luna Potter _wants,_Lily Luna Potter _gets._

At first it's subtle. Little smiles, hugs that last a bit longer than they really should, a wink or two. And Teddy thinks _it's just Lily, she's like a little sister to me._ And Lily, ever the hardworking Hufflepuff, turns it up a notch. Now it's flirtatious comments and revealing tops when Teddy's around and once she even kisses his cheek, which she hasn't done since she was little.

Vicky notices, she's not stupid, and she corners Lily and asks her _what the hell are you doing?,_but Lily just says _nothing Vicky, dear_and that's that.

But then, one day, Lily comes to visit Teddy. And Vicky is off with a friend of hers (_and of course it's a coincidence, Teddy!_) and Lily has got her plan laid out perfectly.

So they just talk a bit, and although Lily gets more and more flirty, Teddy pretends to ignore it. But when Teddy gets up to go to make tea, Lily follows. She follows and she grabs his hands and she kisses him.

And what is Teddy supposed to do?

_option one:_He kisses her back. And all he's thinking is _why didn't I do this before?_And, somehow, they end up on the kitchen floor and she's way to young for this, for _him_, but it's so perfectly imperfect that they both don't care.

And pretty soon Vicky finds out and the rest of the family starts cold-shouldering them, but they're okay, they're okay, because they've got each other.

_option two:_He pushes her away,and it's all _no Lily, I'm sorry, I love Vicky_and _come on, Teddy, she'll never find out_and _Lily, I don't want you._

And Lily Floos away in a huff, and Teddy is sort of sorry to see her go, because he loves her, like a sister, but on the other hand he's not, because it's always been Vicky and it always will be and he would never, ever want to ruin what they have, because it's the best thing he could ever hope for.

_option three:_So he disappears, cause this is all just _too much._

The question is...which option will he choose?


	3. Fred Weasley II

**title: **Complex Shadows

**character/ pairing: **Fred II & Fred/Dominique

**written by:** thethymeisright/Lucy

….

They live in London, and a house so small for the people inside. Him, Roxanne, his father, his mother. And the cousins they seem to house every other day. It's a nice house, though. It's warm, welcoming. They could afford a bigger house if they wanted. But they don't. The Weasleys are a warm, cosy, friendly type of people, and they have lives to match this.

He'd quite like a bigger house, he thinks. His window is so small, he can barely see the world. He's barely _shown_ the world.

Not that there's much to see out of the window, anyway. A small garden, a road. From here he can almost see Muggle London…

Almost.

He's almost everything, isn't he? _Almost_ black, _almost_ white; _almost_ a Gryffindor, _almost_ a Hufflepuff.

_Almost_ Fred.

But which Fred? Fred Weasley, George's twin, the prankster, the winner, the funny, talented goddamn wonderful man?

Or him. The other Fred. The one everyone expects to be like the First Fred.

The one he doesn't know so well.

Everyone tells him stories about First Fred. How he was brave and foolish. How he died fighting with a smile on his face. How his mother was so proud of him. How much he's missed.

And the tell him of the similarities between him and First Fred. They share so much- a name, a family. An identity. Because really, Young Fred doesn't know who he is without the image of First Fred to follow. He's never had the chance to find out.

He really needs an identity, someone to _be_. Someone that's not just who he's _expected_ to be.

But expectations make up his life, especially when he's the son of someone _famous_, from a _famous_ family, with _famous_ friends and _famous_ histories.

Besides, between the paparazzi that like to follow his father every so often, the professors expecting him to throw dungbombs at the Slytherins and his family, who deserve a whole category to themselves, he doesn't have time for some kind of _self_-_discovery_ journey.

Life. That's the only journey he's ever going to get. And he guesses that, as he grows older, he'll probably find out who he really is.

Probably.

He wonders if Fred the First ever had feelings that were wrong, disgusting.

Because if he did, then at least he's got something in common with him.

But… he can't _help_ it, he can't help but look at her. She's beautiful and cruel and desperately ruined, needing attention but not quite sure how to get it.

So she sleeps around and earns herself a reputation, and it breaks his heart to see her so sad, this incredible girl with a heart of stone and the looks of a broken angel.

He tries to talk to her, sometimes, but in truth, she terrifies him. And however Gryffindor he might be, Fred is certainly not the bravest.

He's more a watcher-from-afar, a secret admirer, a simple boy with an impossible crush on an unattainable girl.

What he doesn't realise is that all she's doing is searching for an identity, which makes her just like him, really.

He's indecisive, jumping between wanting her and trying to forget her, and it's just starting to jumble in his mind, confusion overtaking him.

Because he's dug this hole himself and fallen so far into it that he's not coming out, not ever, now.

So all he can do it let himself fall further, until he finally finds the courage to do something.

His parents would disapprove.

After all, it's practically _incest_.

Dominique Weasley. God. They even share the same last _name_.

Why must it be so twisted, so wrong?

But when he's with her, it feels so right.

It's only the beginning of something, something huge. And he knows they're going to grow, to fall in love, and live happily ever after.

So it must be special, it must be important, it must be different, because he was meant to be like his namesake, and surely something this beautifully wrong couldn't have happened to the man of family legends.

…Right?

Oh, they're not the same. He's a shadow of someone else, but she's the sun, the light, the brightness. She creates shadows instead of living in them.

But she takes him into her light and lets him bathe in it, because she may be the cold, stone bitch of the school rumours, but he's family in every definition possible, and she's not immune to that kind of perfection.

It's the type of story that never ends, theirs. It's like every epic love story dreamed up by sad lovers, made into one pile of truths. It sounds ridiculous; it sounds like a joke.

But it's not, which is why in the real world, it just can't last.

So they live in a pretend land, where what they're doing is accepted, and if it's unhealthy, then that doesn't matter.

And if their family deserve to know, then that doesn't matter either.

He's almost anything, and she's almost nothing.

Together, they make everything.

That's enough.


	4. Molly Weasley II

**title**: Learning to Breathe

**character/pairing: **Molly II & Molly/Lysander

**written by: **Sidsaid/Sid

_Disclaimer: _I don't own Harry Potter, not even the song.

_So this is the way_

_that I say that I need You_

_This is the way_

_This is the way_

_**- Learning to Breathe by Switchfoot**_

I knew I'd regret it. Well at least partly.

As soon as the list of activities escaped my grasp and moved onto the next person, I knew that I had started something irreversible.

But I mean, there was only so much I could have done.

Hogwarts had decided to begin Muggle activities for sixth years that Wizards could also enjoy, so what was I supposed to do when I only had 4 options. Two of those included working with my cousins – whom I see enough of every day! The other was working with Henry Davies – which is completely cringe-worthy. So my only option _really _was working with Lysander Scamander. And that is where my problem started.

Now where should I start with Lysander. Let's keep this short and sweet. Lysander is a strange person. Strange to the extent in which I know I literally wouldn't be able to be in a room with him for more than 10 seconds. You should see Rose, she's even worse. It's Unicorns this, Unicorns that.

To tell the truth, I didn't even think he had the ability to do anything other than talk about mythical creatures, especially not play the guitar. According to the infamous liar – James Potter, he had been playing from the age of 2, often serenading small animals he found in his garden. Now I'm not gullible, but that would explain the strange amount of animals you see hanging around him.

What else I find rather peculiar about Lysander, is his face. Now, no, I am not saying he is ugly, he is quite pretty actually, in that innocent school boy way. But he always seems to have this look of embarrassment on his face. I once asked him about it, and he completely disregarded my question and left the room! It was even stranger considering we were in a Potions lesson.

I asked Dominique about it, and she suggested that he was in love with me! What complete rubbish. Then James told me that Lysander had glandular fever, but of course he _is _Mr Liar.

Then I asked Madam Malgin what that was, because naturally, I'm not aware of Muggle diseases, and she laughed! Laughed right in my face, and then mid laugh just about coherently stuttered; "the Kissing Disease."

Now this is my own honest opinion, but I know for certain that Lysander Scamander has not been kissing anyone. Well Dominique knows for certain. He probably just has really bad hay fever, or maybe he is allergic to dust, the dungeons _are _rather dusty.

Back to my point.

It was either football with Roxanne – first, I hate football – and I don't think I could take Roxanne being in an authoritative position over me for 10, 1 hour sessions. Then there was _normal _chess with Lucy, she's my sister and I love her, but Wizards Chess is boring enough. Or even worse, an activity with Henry Davies and his obsession with STAMPS! Now I'm not exactly the most fun person to be around, I mostly sit around writing. But stamps, really?

So my only option was with Lysander, and at least then I would be learning something worthwhile. I've always thought it could be quite fun to learn a musical instrument. Even if my dad thinks the opposite. It's quite humorous seeing how my dad is so against me learning an instrument in my spare time, and my own mother goes out of her way to visit a _Muggle _shop to buy me an actual guitar: Green with blue waves along the bottom.

My main problem with the situation, is that Lysander will start going on and on about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. To be truthful, they aren't my style. And people say _I _get stuck in my own made up universe!

...

Unsurprisingly, on arrival to fated classroom 52 on the fourth floor, Lysander was sitting in the hallway, waiting and staring dreamily at the wall.

He looked like he nearly had a coronary when I walked over.

"Oh, hi Molly," he said, squeaking unnaturally and looking altogether worked up.

"Afternoon Lysander," I replied courteously, gripping the neck of my new guitar. "So when does this start?" I continued, growing even more sceptical at the look he was given me – like I had something on my face.

"Uh, well, we can start now," he stumbled and got up, nearly dropping his own guitar, and then quickly opening the door to the classroom.

It was empty, completely empty. Not a student in sight. Just my luck that I had been the _only _person to have signed up for this activity. I would have suggested foul play, but that word isn't in Lysander's vocabulary.

He sat down, moving a chair across from him for me, and though slightly agitated, I sat down.

"Where is everyone else?" I asked, continuing to eye the room. It was an unused classroom, it had been for years. There was a thick layer of dust on the desks that were scattered around the room, and the black board still had the date on it; 24th April 2010. I could see that Lysander had previously tried to clean it up, there was misplaced dust on the teacher's desk, and a jug of water was sitting on it.

"You're the only one who signed up," he replied, rubbing at the back of his head.

He straightened the guitar in his lap, and closed his eyes for a second longer than normal.

I only replied with a murmur and waited for him to do something. Anything. I swear he was going redder as time went by. I thought he was going to have a coughing fit from the way he was breathing. Then maybe my thought about him being allergic to dust was true?

He wrung his hands, looking down at my feet, revealing a halo of darker blonde hair around his crown. I could hear him sucking in air and quietly murmuring to himself. He looked up, though not quite reaching my eyes, more like reaching my chest which I couldn't say I was pleased about. Seconds later, as if realising this, he turned his view to a spot behind me.

"Well, today, I...I thought, since it will be only you, _Molly_, that I could...could show you something." He said, not exactly quietly, but as if he was in some sort of pain. His tone had changed when he had said my name, gone softer.

He is a very odd person.

I nodded anyway, despite my worries about his health.

He gripped the neck of his guitar tightly, confidently tightly. The most confident I had seen him do anything. He held it...well, like it was the most important thing in the world to him, his very own way of speaking to the world. It intrigued me to say the least, the strength of his grip, yet the softness in which he carefully laid his fingers on the strings.

I realised I was staring at his hands and snapped out of it.

"Go ahead," I said, trying to not sound like I was urging him into anything, but I actually really did want to hear what he was going to play.

He started playing, carefully stroking the strings in a smooth melody. He did it with ease, his breathing merging with the rhythm.

Then his voice.

I hadn't heard anything like it, it was incredible.

I wasn't listening to the words, distracted by his tone and style. Then when I did, I was surprised.

"_That I'm learning to breathe_

_I'm learning to crawl_

_I'm finding that You and_

_You alone can break my fall_

_I'm living again, awake and alive_

_I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies"_

I was pretty amazed by what he was singing, they were beautiful words, and that is exactly why I looked up to actually look at him for the first time since he had started.

He was staring directly at me, for the first time. All traces of nervousness gone, his eyes were confident, shining with it. His eyes didn't move from my face, he continued strumming and singing, as if to me. Not just performing in general. It wasn't exactly an uncomfortable gaze, but it was unusual. He didn't usually look at me so intently, especially not directly into my eyes. That's how I noticed his deep blue eyes, the ones that were dead set on me.

I looked back to his hands, and they were moving flawlessly across the guitar. The breaths he was taking throughout the song, sounding sweet and perfect.

"_This is the way_

_That I say I love You_

_This is the way_

_That I say I'm Yours_

_This is the way_

_This is the way"_

When he finished, he didn't say anything. Just stared at me directly in the eyes, as if willing me to say something. His eyes were trained on me and he looked the most self-assured I had ever seen him. And it suited him. On this one particular occasion, he didn't look as much like an innocent school boy, more like the 16 year old he was – handsome and confident.

"I didn't think you were so... good," I said, still quite flustered at his complete change.

He smiled, like genuinely smiled. It was kind of weird, because I've never seen him do so. It's always the red faced look. It's quite nice to think, however, that a simple thing like a guitar could make him act so confidently, like he could finally breathe properly. I suppose the guitar for him was as simple as breathing.

"It was for you," he replied seconds later.

I just about caught what he said, still enraptured in my thoughts. I felt sort of out of body, I watched my own eyes grow in surprise, especially at what looked like Lysander's suspect hand moving from the neck of his guitar, towards me.

And then, strangely. I couldn't breathe.

**Dedicated to my sextuplets :D**


	5. Dominique Weasley

**title: **Just Not Meant to Be

**character/pairing:** Dominique & Dominique/Scorpius

**written by: **limegreenrocks/Mad

….

Throwing her hair back, she casts her eyes to the sky, dark and cloudy above her. The wind blows her blonde curls back and she frowns.

It really wasn't supposed to turn out this way, was it? They were supposed to live _happily_-_ever- after_ and all of that stuff that no one gets. It wasn't supposed to be an _un_happy ending. But it is.

It's then, as she sits there, that someone approaches her from behind. "You can't keep running away from everything, Dominique."

"Says the king of running away," She says without even turning around. She shifts her body so that she's facing away from him.

Sighing, he plops down beside her. "You know we weren't… well…"

"Meant to be together?" She scowls over at him. "Has that ever stopped us before?"

"No, I suppose not," He glances over at her. She just flips her hair back, letting the wind blow it back.

"So, why stop now?" She asks angrily, though it's a bit unreasonable. She knows his reasoning behind everything that he's done. "We're Slytherin, everyone _knows_ we're sort of bad like that…"

"Do they?" He retorts, amused. "Have you told anyone?"

….

It all starts, as most illicit relationships do, with a single kiss in a corridor.

She's yelling at him for dating her Gryffindor cousin Rose and then breaking her heart. He's yelling at her for telling her that it's wrong _(even though it is, she knows). _Then they're _this close_ to each other, his hot breath on her face. Even though she's never been Gryffindor at all, she's still got that Gryffindor recklessness from her family, and her lips are on his with some unbeatable urgency.

"What are we doing?" He whispers as she pulls away.

"I don't know," She hisses back. "But why doesn't it feel wrong?" For some reason, she feels that the only reason she kissed him was because it was _wrong_, and she's Slytherin so she likes that feeling. But now she can't help but feel regret- there's no mystery in their relationship, just some spark. It's just _right_ somehow, and she has to wonder why.

"I couldn't tell you," He says, but she sees the weird euphoria in his eyes.

Awkwardly, she shifts from foot to foot, trying to decide what to say next. "So, what do we do now?"

"I don't know," He says, looking around. Then, realizing he has nothing to say, he starts to walk off the other way.

Because he's always been the king of running away, and she knows it.

….

She manages to avoid him _(and him her_), which is quite a feat, considering they're in the same house and year.

That is, until she accidentally bumps into him in the common room. His eyes trace her up and down, looking at her like she's the most beautiful thing in the world, _(she can tell)_ but as if he knows he can't have her _(he can't)_. "Dominique. Long time, no see."

"Scorpius," She says softly. Backing up a step or two, she scowls. "Been avoiding me, have you?" She knows that he has, and she hates the heat that lingers in her body even when he's not touching her.

"As have you," Scorpius says, biting his lip as he looks at her. "Merlin, Dominique, you don't look so good, and I mean that in the kindest way possible."

"I wonder why." She flips her hair behind her head. _I might have a small crush on this boy who doesn't acknowledge my existence anymore and is dating my cousin. Yeah, right, my life is perfect. If said boy would only go away, my life would get a whole lot easier._

"Is it because of me?" He groans, not meeting her eyes like he's scared she's going to confirm his suspicions. "Dominique, you… we… there's no point in loving me, Dom. You're just going to get hurt."

Rolling her eyes at his insensitivity, she snaps. "You think I don't know that, Scorpius? You think that I don't wake up every morning, staring at the sun and hoping that today will be the day that everything changes and I stop _liking _you? But it doesn't. Nothing changes, Scorpius."

"Dom, I'm…" He shakes his head, but upon hearing her intense words, his head snaps up. She stares at him, wondering what he's thinking, but then his lips are on hers again. It's a battle between wrong and right and _oh, this is so wrong_. But it still feels so _right_.

After a few seconds, she breaks away. "This is wrong. It's you and Rose, Scorpius, and she's my _cousin_. You can't snog me and date her."

He kisses her again. Against her lips, he whispers, "Who says I can't?"

Using as little of her strength as possible, she pushes him away. "Common laws of courtesy. Parents. Everyone, Scorpius, it's freaking morally wrong."

"Since when have you ever cared about what's morally wrong?" He says, putting his hand up to her cheek and watching the blood rush to it. With a nod, he tells her, "See that?"

"I blushed, so what?" Her icy glare bears into him. "Doesn't mean that I want _this_. I don't want an occasional snog in the hallways while you have an upfront relationship with my cousin. She's my _cousin, _Scorpius, and I don't want to hurt her, even if she hurts me."

"Why the sudden kindness?" He replies bitingly. Slowly, he bends down to press his lips to the top of her head.

"I don't know," She relaxes a bit under his touch. Finally, she brings her blue eyes up to meet his. "_No one_ can know about this."

"Obviously," he says in his normal tone. "I'm not going to be stupid enough to broadcast it to the world. Your brother- Louis- he would kill me."

"Louis would not only kill you, it would be slow and painful," Dominique informs him with a smirk. "But fine. I... I can't resist. But _no one can ever know_." She puts heavy emphasis on each of the words.

"Good," he says, and then his lips are on hers again.

It's not supposed to be this way. It's wrong. The words echo over and over in her head, and heck, maybe Dominique Weasley is finally getting a conscience.

….

It's a few months later that the guilt really sinks in for Dominique. Rose is coming inside from one of her dates with Scorpius, all happy and innocent looking. With a grin, she greets her Slytherin cousin. "Hello, Dominique!"

"Hi to you too, Rose," Dominique says quietly, barely even glancing up from the textbook on her lap.

"You're awfully quiet," Rose observes, sitting down beside her. "Something wrong, Dom?"

"No, of course not," Dominique says bravely. Perhaps, though she'll never admit it, she has more of the Gryffindor gene in her than she thinks. She's being _brave_ and not admitting she's wrong (which, really, is more Slytherin, but still). "How was your date with Scorpius?" The venomous words are sugar-coated.

"It was terrific," Rose tells her. A pretty smile slides across her face. "He was such a gentleman, I couldn't even believe it! He bought me dinner and asked me to dance."

"Oh, that's terrific," Dominique informs her cousin. She doesn't show the emotion piling up inside of her, the sadness that's threatening to burst through.

The sad thing is she can't blame Rose. Rose is the sweet girl here, the good girl- the one that's going to get _hurt_. Dominique is the bad guy and she doesn't know how to stop.

"Well, thanks for listening to me," Rose shoots her a huge, _innocent_ smile. "I'm a bit tired- I think I'll head over to the Gryffindor dorms and go to sleep. See you later, Dom!"

"See you, Rose," Dominique calls to her cousin. Burying her head in the pillows, she thinks about how wrong she is at the moment and how she's screwing up her cousin's love life. It's weird, that such a Slytherin should have a conscience, but she doesn't care.

Someone enters the room. In a smug tone, the person calls, "Dominique? Is that you?"

Stiffly, she pushes herself up, recognizing the person at once. "Yes, obviously it is."

He walks over to her slowly, a small smirk upon his face. "What are you doing? Waiting up for me?" His tone is nearly mocking, a reminder of the not so nice person he really s.

"No," She says, pushing herself up to a sitting position. "I was thinking. Like I care where _you've_ been."

"Don't lie, Dominique," He reprimands her with a smirk. "You do care. That much is obvious."

She just bites down on her lip before looking him straight in his icy grey eyes. "How was your _date_ with _Rose_?"

"It was perfectly fine," Scorpius says, smirking at her. "Quite _fun_, actually."

She stands up, stepping close to him, the icy fire in her blue eyes blazing. All she can think about is how stupid he is (_and how stupid she is)_. "Malfoy, if this is some sick attempt to make me jealous-"

"Weasley, as if," He mocks, stepping a bit closer to her.

She puts her hands on her chest, accidentally. Leaning forward, he kisses her again, whispering, "I love you."

"Don't say that," She pushes him away with all of her strength and ends up almost falling on the floor. Scrambling to her feet, she tells him in a venomous tone, "Don't say things you don't mean, Scorpius, especially things like that. _Especially_ while you're with Rose, who you're perfect for-" She's blinking back tears at this point. "Don't even go there, Scorpius."

"What if it's true?" Scorpius says slowly, putting his hand softly on her cheek. "I think I might…"

"DON'T GO THERE," She shrieks again. Stepping back even further from him, she scowls. "You _don't _love me, Scorpius. You can't. I'm not messing up your relationship with Rose for some stupid friends with benefits thing. This is not going to work, I'll have you know."

"But Dominique," Scorpius seems on the verge of breaking down too. "I somehow went and fell in love with you and I have no idea how to get out, y'see..."

"You probably should have thought of that before you decided to fall in love with both of us at the same time," Dominique hisses. Without even thinking much about it, she reaches out and slaps him hard across the face. Scowl on her face, she hisses, "Have fun with Rose, and don't even think about crawling back to me."

Tears starting to spill down her face, she dashes out. She knows it's her fault as much as Scorpius'- all of this is as much her fault as Scorpius'. But at the moment, she just wants to blame him, curl up in a ball and cry.

She doesn't know how he does it, really.

….

After her escapade with Scorpius, she doesn't really know what to do. That's probably how she ended up turning to Lorcan, the one that always knows what to do, the reasonable one, the _safe_ one. He's the one who will never hurt her, unlike Scorpius.

One day, she sits with him on a hill, looking up at the sky that seems so far away. Turning to him, she says, "Lorcan, I need a new beginning."

He turns to look at her, obviously amused. "Why do you need a new beginning, Dom?"

"Because of Scorpius and his dimwittedness," She sighs, leaning back onto his chest. He awkwardly wraps an arm around her. "He doesn't care about anything, least of all _me_. He knows that he hurts my feelings and he doesn't even care."

"Wait," Lorcan props himself up to lean on his elbow. "What exactly happened between you and Scorpius? Isn't he going out with Rose?"

She sighs, cursing her own stupidity. "It was just a few snogging sessions, nothing major, but we sort of kind of fell for each other and it all went downhill from there."

"So you're still in love with him, aren't you?" Lorcan whispers, his eyes tracing her face. "You're still not over him?"

"I…" She just sighs. "I don't know."

"You're going to choose Scorpius over me, aren't you?" Lorcan's tone still isn't harsh, even though he's angry. It's still soft and reasonable. She has to wonder how he does it. Without waiting for her to respond, he continues on. "Even though he's a cheater and he sort of broke your heart, _it's always going to be him._ Even though I'm the one who's stable and has been here all along, _it's always going to be him_. Who cares about nice guys? Who cares about the ones who care? Bad boys are where it's at." His tone is still calm, just sarcastic and biting.

She just stares at him, trying to fathom what he's saying. Choking on air, she finally gets out, "I'm so sorry, Lorcan."

"You're not even going to try to deny it, are you?" He asks with a scowl. "You don't even care that much. We're done, Dominique, I can't handle you and all of your_ Slytherin tendencies_." He says it like it's a bad thing.

"Lorcan!" She yells into the empty air, but it's too late. He's _gone_.

Just like everything else.

…

After a few months of avoidance _(she's an expert)_ and awkward glances, she runs into Scorpius in a corridor. Eyes downcast, she greets him. "Hello, Scorpius."

"Dominique," He replies, and it feels like they're strangers.

Sighing, she looks up. "Heard you and Rose broke up."

"Heard you and Lorcan broke up," He says, basically just repeating everything that she says.

She giggles. "Are you just going to twist everything I say and shoot it back at me?"

"Basically," He replies, amused. Then, his eyes tracing her face once again, he asks, "Are you okay? Cause you don't look so good, Dominique."

"I'm a screw up, aren't I, Scorpius?" She says with a sigh. "I can't keep a steady boyfriend and I can't face my problems head on. I always just run away from them. Half of the school hates me and the other half will hate me when they catch wind of the fact that I broke innocent little Lorcan Scamander's fragile heart."

"No one hates you," He frowns. "Who told you that? I mean, if there's someone who everyone hates, it's me. Scorpius Malfoy, resident heartbreaker and suspected Death Eater."

"Suppose we're both pretty messed up, aren't we?" Her eyes shine as she stares up at him.

"I suppose we are," He agrees, and then, once again, he's kissing her.

Her eyes widen, but she figures it's better now, since neither of them are actually dating anyone. But then she remembers how sad she was after the whole escapade when she'd told him she _wasn't _doing it anymore and how she _can't_ do this anymore. She pushes him away with a firm shove.

"Scorpius, when I said that I was done with this, I meant it," She scowls at him. "I'm done with this. I'm changing schools. Don't bother to come after me."

….

"What do you mean you want to go to Beauxbatons?" Her father asks, giving her a very concerned look. "You have always hated how snobby it is there. Why would you want to go there."

"Beauxbatons iz not accepting students thees late in ze year," Her mum informs her with a hard stare.

"Aren't there any other wizarding schools?" Dominique asks, eyes wide in panic because she just _can't_ go back to Hogwarts.

"Well," Her mum picks up an empty carton of milk, "Zere ees one, but it iz in Asia."

"Fine with me," Dominique grins. "I'll be headed there as soon as possible."

….

That's how they got to where they are now. They're sitting on the hill, the dark clouds looming inauspiciously above them, creating a complexity of darkness.

"I haven't told anyone," She tells him reluctantly with a sigh. It's a lie- _Lorcan_ knows- but oh well, she's never cared before.

"So how do they know?" He demands.

She frowns at him. "They could've guessed or something, I don't know. They know about all the bad things I've done in the past. Which is why I need to do this, Scorpius. I need a new beginning. I can't stay here with all of my mistakes looming over me. It's just too much, Scorpius. I'm…" She means to say I'm sorry, but she's too _stubborn_ to say anything at all.

He wraps an arm around her, a move much too soft for him, and she buries her head in his chest. Into her ear, he whispers, "I'll miss you when you go."

"I'll miss you too," She says, but it's not enough _(it's never been enough_).

She's still going to leave, and maybe she won't see him again, or at least for a very long time.

It's that thought that plagues her as she leaves him with a simple kiss and a wave.

….

She leaves through Apparation the very next day, running away from all of her problems and the very few good things too. It's all so very messed up but she doesn't mind. Finally, she's going to get her new beginning and there's nothing stopping her this time.

Once she arrives there, everything goes so fast, getting set up in a new city and everything. Even though everything seems to be going well so far, there's some empty place in her heart and she just can't find what it is.

Day by day, she wanders down the street, wondering if she'll find what she's looking for there. She meets many of her soon to be classmates but none of them are enough.

_(None of them are Scorpius.)_

One day, she goes to watch the sunrise on a tiny hill near her house when she hears the telltale popping sound. Her eyes widen as she turns to see who has Apparated.

It's _Scorpius_.

She knows that she's supposed to be angry with him but she can't stop herself from giggling and wrapping him in a hug. He returns it gladly, and as she rests her head on his chest, she asks, "How did you find me?"

"I don't know," He says, obviously confused. "Your parents told me what country you were in and this place popped into my mind, so I suppose I just went with it."

She frowns. "But this is supposed to be my new beginning, Scorp, and you're ruining it…"

"Fine," Scorpius smirks at her. "Let's have a new beginning then." He extends a hand to her. "Hello, my name is Scorpius Malfoy."

With a grin, she shakes it. "Nice to meet you, Scorpius, I'm Dominique Weasley."

Then he laughs and pulls her in and kisses her.

This time, she doesn't push him away or anything like that.


	6. Victoire Weasley

**character: **Victoire

**written by**: Miss UnBrilievable/Bri

….

She stares at the floor littered with photographs, the Muggle ones that are frozen, and the Wizarding ones that are smiling and laughing up at her, immersed in inside jokes and happy days. They're carefree and happy, not in the slightest giving away the painful reality of what was to come.

Victoire always liked to think of herself as strong, she really did. But when one runs away from their own hometown due to pressure applied by oneself, she doesn't think of that person has strong anymore. She thinks of them as weak.

Therefore, she is weak. She is a weak young woman, with looks as a curse, and brains as a cliché. She is drowning herself in memories of her happy past, in photographs that told nothing of the future. Her family had told her to keep them, as a reminder of her fairytale past, with best wishes that she would get her fairytale future.

She doesn't have it, right now. She has shimmery, pictureperfect memories on photographs, haunting her and making her sick, and sometimes, she just wishes they would go away, those memories.

Because that's what makes everything painful. The fact that she remembers, remembers the old days, the old her, the old life. If she had forgotten all about that, maybe she would be stronger.

Maybe.


	7. Roxanne Weasley

**character/pairing: **Roxanne & Roxanne/Teddy

**written by: **Smile Life Away/Smile

...

She's the first one to break.

Because, you see, she's had to carve her own path.

She's not _Victoire,_ who was always destined to follow in her mother's footsteps; Dominique, who touched piano keys at three and never looked back – because it was expected of her; or even Louis, the odd one out, who thinks that one day he'll find land that's never been discovered to make his own.

And she's not like Molly, the affectionate one, her grandmother's namesake. Or Lucy, the know-it-all who can identify any plant and give an anecdote on its meaning just like her mother can – Audrey, the botanist who married a wizard.

Even her brother, Fred, already has something going for him. Because he never had to carve his own path, he got stuck with a name that already had a legacy. _Fred Weasley_ and all it implies. He's always had a plan to follow it.

And then there's Rose, Hugo, James, Albus, and Lily who really don't need anything except their parents' names – Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny. The reason why Rose is brilliant and Hugo…well…isn't. James is just like his paternal grandfather, Albus plays Quidditch, and Lily is probably the sweetest (most annoying) person alive. But they're the children of heroes, so they don't need an identity, not really.

It's different with her.

Because she doesn't have a name that defines her, or a talent she can spend all her energy developing.

She's just Roxanne.

And sure, she has the name Weasley. And yes, her parents are heroes in their own right. But, she's had to carve her own path.

And to do that you need _something_ – motivation, talent, someone hounding you that whoever 'did it this way.'

She doesn't have any of that.

So she's the first one to break.

And it's not like glass, which shatters.

(After all, glass brings everyone's attention).

It's like breaking a child's toy.

(One person notices, and it's in the trash the next day).

It's not Fred who notices; because he's too busy trying to live up to his namesake's reputation. And it's not either one of her parents.

It's her cousin's boyfriend – Teddy Lupin.

Roxanne doesn't relish in being noticed, she fears the trash that is soon to come. But he doesn't throw her away. He does the unthinkable, he mends her.

"It's worse," he tells her, "Trying to live up to _their _legacy." He means his parents.

Because Teddy Lupin has more than a namesake, he has a history. He has a convoluted mix of Black – and – Tonks – and – Lupin – and – hero – and _Harry Potter's godson _– and – _Malfoy's cousin_ - and he has a label, a _metamorphagus_. So maybe, he's worse off than her.

Roxanne Weasley, who's had to carve her own path in life - a path she hasn't been able to figure out.

Roxanne Weasley who's not Victoire, Dominique, Louis, Molly, Lucy, Fred, Rose, Hugo, James, Albus, Lily, or any of the people they stand for.

Roxanne Weasley who doesn't have Teddy Lupin's burden, or his blessing.

Roxanne Weasley – the first to break – the one lucky enough to be mended.

Maybe Teddy Lupin's right.

Maybe she's been given her own blessing; she's been given a choice.


	8. Molly Weasley II: 2

**title: **and what a pretty-eyed devil she is

**character/pairing:** Molly II & Molly/Lysander

**written by: **ListenAndBelieve/Listen

...

She's a whirlwind of passion, all palepale skin, short red hair, and blueblue eyes, refusing to take back the mistakes she's made.

Until she was twelve, Molly had only ever known one world – the world of drama and losing oneself in another role to play.

Her mother, Audrey, was always taking her to plays Audrey was performing in, or organising skits for her and her cousins to perform in the backyard. As a young, impressionable girl, she fell in love with the glitz and glamour of showbiz, adoring the feel of the too-bright spotlight on her freckled skin, or the babble of actors rehearsing in the trailer next to Audrey's.

Of course, time goes on, and star struck Molly with the wide brown eyes decides to rebel, and _experiment_, and she leaves behind her fairytale world of happy endings and true love in favour of this newer, harsher world. She starts to forget the world of drama, and tries – though never quite succeeds - to live happily in her own skin.

* * *

><p>"'Sander! Lysander Xenophilius Lovegood, if you don't give back my essay, I'll sic Dom on you! I <em>have <em>to get this essay in, or Longbottom's going to fail me," Molly says, stretching to grab the sheet of parchment off her best friend. At his pointed look, she continues. "You know my dad – I have to get good grades, and I can't do that if I don't hand in this essay!" she says, feeling her eyes tear slightly. She's always been slightly overemotional, and she hates it; hates being sentimental over the littlest things.

"Calm down, Molls – here's your essay," he says, handing it to her. Molly frantically scribbles down the last few sentences before rolling it up and sealing the scroll with her customary silver ribbon. She bolts towards the library door and into the corridor, not even looking back to see if Lysander is following.

She knows he's right behind her; he always is.

* * *

><p>"Molly?" Audrey calls down the hall. "Come downstairs – I have a surprise for you!"<p>

Molly, still in her grumpy teenager phase, thumps down the stairs, taking care to stomp as loudly as possible on her journey.

"Hmm?" she asks, not looking up from her copy of _A Midsummer Night's Dream_; she might have finished with acting, but she will always love Shakespeare.

Audrey opens the kitchen door, revealing a red-faced Lysander standing in the kitchen, looking embarrassed that Audrey has made such a scene out of him visiting. It's not like he's never been here before.

Molly finally looks up, and spots Lysander; she immediately runs towards him, leaving the play on the coffee table. She jumps on him, hugging him as tightly as she can. "Missed you."

"Missed you too," he sighs against her hair, hugging her back. It was the very last day of summer, and Lysander and his family had been exploring the Saharan desert in Africa for the entire summer.

She feels something cut her arm, and steps out of his embrace, blushing a deep red when she realises Audrey has been standing there for the entire time.

"What is it? Where's my surprise?" she jokes, knowing that Lysander is the surprise.

"This is your surprise," he replies, showing her the tickets in his hand; clearly, the cardboard tickets had been the thing that cut her. She can just make out the words _A Midsummer Nigh-_written in silver cursive. The rest of it is cut off by Lysander's finger, but she gets the idea.

"Molls, I know you don't like seeing the plays anymore – you're not a little kid, I get it – but since it's your favourite play, and we haven't seen it in years, maybe you'd like to…" Audrey trails off, looking hopefully at her daughter. She never sees her anymore, and though she'd never admit it, her heart broke a little the day Molly yelled that 'I hate acting, and I hate plays, and I hate you always making me go with you to see stupid plays.' Acting was the one thing that always connected them, and now that connection is almost gone.

Molly sighs. Why does she always have to be the one to make the choice? But if she and Lysander sit far enough away from her mum, then it could be almost like a date.

"Alright," she says, suddenly thinking of an idea. "But you have to let me go with Rose to the _Incendio! _concert next week."

Maybe it's a mark of how desperate she is to return Molly to her bubbly self, but Audrey agrees, and the trio walks out the door toward their destination.

* * *

><p>Of course, Molly falls back in love with acting, but doesn't know what to do with her re-found love. She's a little too old to be allowed on Audrey's set, now.<p>

She can be someone else, and lose herself, and for that one hour a week she is absolutely free. She can forget her problems with Lysander (oh, Merlin, how much she loves that boy), and her schoolwork, and the fact that someone stole Lucy's ballet shoes and hasn't given them back.

She's cast as Juliet in her academy's production, and the lines flow so naturally it's like she _is _Juliet. It's stars, and explosions of firefirefire. And she loves it.

She's fifteen now, and she's about to be discovered.

* * *

><p>There's a feeling she gets when she's onstage. It's all brightbright<em>harsh<em> lights, heavy costumes, and make-up caked on so much she can barely it's her behind that toobright red lipstick.

Yet, she feels _alive_. Power is charging through her veins, and she suddenly knows how Dominique and Scorpius feel when they are centre of attention – like she is the queen, and the world is at her feet.

Gliding across the smooth, brightly lit stage, she says her lines so fervently that her stunned audience can barely believe it's her. They can scarcely connect this picture of a tear-tracked, pale-faced, love-stricken Juliet with the sweet, practical, I'll-never-fall-in-love Molly that they all know and love.

And a man sits in the audience, a business card in his pocket that is destined for Molly.

* * *

><p>She's approached by the man after the performance, arms full of the violet forget-me-nots Lysander gave her. The man hands her the card, and speaks to her mother, and before she knows what's happening she's signed up for an audition for the New York Broadway.<p>

It's all happening too fast, and surely this train will crash; but she's too caught up in the Hollywood blitz.

* * *

><p>Molly gets the part, of course, and life spirals out of control. She drops out of Hogwarts to focus on her acting – she's still homeschooled in magic, of course – and she goes from little theatre girl to Hollywood star, and suddenly she doesn't have time for family anymore.<p>

She has to be _perfect_ now, because there's a lot of pressure on her shoulders now, and if she gives up then what else does she have?

_(Molly's always been a little bit blind to the truth)_

But baby, she's only fifteen, and all this fame is a little too much for her to handle.

* * *

><p>She's seventeen now, and in her search for perfection, little girl Molly is lost along the way. Her vices are no longer scripts and silver ribbons, but drink and searching for comfort in the arms of strangers.<p>

The Muggle world begins to whisper about "that poor Molly-girl", and the media takes photographs of her that are less than flattering. They twist her spiralling life to fit their own need for entertainment, and consequently, photos are printed showing her in revealing clothes; a drink in one hand and a man in the other; and the men change as quickly as the drinks do. The women scoff, pretending they don't remember their own wild days, and the men only see the beauty of her outer self.

The wizarding world has no idea of how far their golden girl has fallen; how lost their precious Molly Weasley is, and if they do, they choose to ignore it. A Weasley, acting like this? Of course not! Silly Muggles, taking things out of context.

But of course, secrets are made to be spilled, and when Dina Skeeter publishes her tell all novel the world is forced to admit that maybe Molly has begun her own destruction.

The phone is ringing off the hook; "Molly, dear, are you all right?"; "Call me back, Molly"; "Sweetheart, if you ever need someone to talk to…" But knock knock, honey – Molly isn't home right now.

* * *

><p>The scene is set; Molly, the party girl, sitting outside a bar. Lysander, the stable best friend, trying to get her to listen.<p>

"Molly, come on, you need help," Lysander pleads one night when he finds her sitting on the curb outside the Dragon's Breath – Molly might has risen to Muggle fame, but she likes to party with the wizards.

She just shakes her head, and pushes him away. "I'm fine, 'Sander," she slurs. "Just fine."

"No, you're not, Molly. Look at yourself," he says, indicating the smashed bottles and the scent of vomit lingering in the air. "Is this what you want?"

"I'm seventeen, Lys," she replies fiddling with the band that hangs around her neck. Though it is dark, and he can't see it, he knows it's the silver chain with the diamond _M_; the one he gave her for her 9th birthday that she never takes off. 'It's my lucky charm' he hears, the ghost of a 12 year old Molly's voice echoing in his ears. "Perfectly legal." And here he sees that she is the same Molly after all; ever so stubborn and unrelenting, finding excuses for anything she's done. _She always was a skilled liar_, he thinks, _even to herself_.

She walks away after that, unheedful of a silver chain dropping to the ground, the crystal _M _snapping in half. Lysander stares after her, a helpless expression on his face; and neither of them know that the next time they meet, it will be very different.

But he still kneels to the ground and scoops up the broken chain.

* * *

><p>He sends her the necklace the next day.<p>

She doesn't reply.

* * *

><p><em>Tap tap. Tap tap.<em>

Lysander looks up from the novel he's reading, and pushes his glasses further up his nose. He slowly places a bookmark in its pages, sets it aside and heads towards the door.

_Tap tap. Tap tap. Thump!_

He opens it, and is shocked to find a girl he doesn't know leaning against the doorframe, crying with her hair and clothes soaked from the rain.

"Lysander," the girl croaks, looking so desperate his heart nearly breaks just looking at her. He's always been a bit too sensitive for his own good. He searches her face for anything that looks familiar, but comes up blank.

"Come inside," he says, because even if he doesn't know this girl, he should still help her, at least for a night. And if she turns out to be part of an intricate plot to trick him or kill him in his sleep, she's just a Muggle, and he has a wand.

Silently, she moves past him and through the doorway, her energy seemingly spent. She's stopped crying now.

"I'm sorry, do I-" he starts, determined to get something out of this waif-like girl. His breath catches as he glimpses a crystalline 'M' hanging on a silver chain around her neck. _Don't jump to conclusions,_ he tells himself, _other people might have the same necklace. _He can't help himself; he stretches out a hand and stops her from walking any further, and cups her face, pushing back her stringy hair with his other hand. As soon as he sees those familiar blue eyes, he knows.

"Molly?" he whispers, eyes locked with hers. She nods, and he releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. Wordlessly, he steers her inside, not sure where to begin.

* * *

><p>Lysander tells Molly that she's moving in with him; she'd probably be better off with Grandma Weasley or Audrey, but every time he brings up the subject she ignores him or outright refuses, and he isn't going to push too hard at this point.<p>

"_Molly, what's wrong?"_

_She doesn't reply. "Where are you living right now?" he asks concernedly._

"_Nowhere," she whispers, lowering her gaze._

_He makes a sound like the buzzer of a game show. "Wrong answer, Molly. You live here now, for as long as you need. Unless you want to move back in with your mu or Grandma Weasley?" he questions._

_She just shakes her head, and doesn't reply._

He's always been like that – he won't press for answers that she doesn't want to give.

He asks her, later, why she had turned up on his doorstep, of all places, crying and drenched with rain.

"Why my place?"

"You don't need to know yet," she always replies, and eventually he leaves her be.

He declares his one-bedroom apartment an alcohol free zone and insists that he sleep on the couch; it's easier to keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't go anywhere that will tempt her back to her old ways. But she doesn't try to go anywhere; she just sits, curled up on the couch (which is supposed to be his bed) and flicking her wand so that it shoots sparks; pink, blue, green, yellow. She doesn't touch the stack of books he bought for her, not even the thick volume of Shakespearian plays that she loves so much.

"Molly-girl, come on – you need to go outside!" he says, sitting on the other end of the couch. She just shakes her head, and turns away, one arm curled around her stomach and the other threaded through her increasingly messy hair.

"Very well," he sighs, though he's beginning to get worried. "What would you like for lunch?" Lysander adds, going to collect his silliest apron to attempt to get her to smile – it always worked before.

She doesn't smile.

* * *

><p>Molly's turning into Lucy; taking long walks by herself, seldom speaking rationally, and staring off into space, fiddling with the 'M' around her neck.<p>

He doesn't want to admit how freaked out he is by all this. Molly isn't herself, isn't the girl he grew up with, the girl he always thought he'd- but all his dreams don't matter now, because he doesn't know how to bring Molly back. He understands that she's been pretty messed up, but it's been three weeks and she still hasn't moved from the couch.

It's time to bring in the big guns.

He pinches a handful of green dust and throws it into the always roaring fire; Molly doesn't even look around to see what he's doing, as she would have done before all this. But then, if she was herself, he wouldn't be doing this in the first place.

"Victoire? Can you come over, please?"

* * *

><p>A minute later, Victoire appears in the fireplace, and as always he is momentarily stunned by her beauty. He never told anyone, not even Molly, that Victoire was his first crush – and his first kiss. It still counted, even if it was a pity kiss because he was in a mood about Molly dating Peter Owen.<p>

For a moment, he almost forgets about Molly, as entranced by Victoire as he is.

"So, Vic, how are you?" he asks, leanly suavely against the doorframe, cocking an eyebrow and attempting to look sexy.

"Ly, what – oh," she says with a burst of realisation, closing her eyes and concentrating hard. The pearly sheen of her skin diminishes, shocking Lysander out of his Veela-charm induced trance.

"Sorry – I was with Teddy," she apologizes, and he nods his understanding. Victoire is usually very careful to keep her Veela powers under control, but when she's really happy, she loses some of her control. "Molly?"

He nods again, leading the way into the living room.

Molly was still curled up on the couch, but in the time he'd been gone she'd managed to find his last bottle of elfberry wine; the half-empty bottle lay on the floor, the rest of its contents spilling over his pale cream-coloured carpet.

He turns around to see Victoire staring at Molly with a stunned look on her face, and it was only then that he realises that Victoire had been on her honeymoon with Teddy when Molly had started on her path to destruction. She wouldn't have seen the news, or read the papers; it would be quite a shock to see the usually clean, vivacious and perfect Molly – she'd grown out of her teenage ways once she'd started acting – curled up on the couch, with her stringy hair and hollow eyes.

"Molly," Victoire says, rushing to her side. He leaves the room, then; Victoire is the mother figure of the Weasley cousins, and well as a healer; and he can do no more.

He risks a glance behind him before he exits the room. He sees a silent Molly lying with her head on Victoire's lap, Victoire speaking softly and stroking Molly's limp hair. He feels a strange sense of relief, jealousy, and an urgent need to down a pot of tea.

* * *

><p>He's working on his latest script in his – no, Molly's – bedroom when Victoire comes in. Lysander quickly covers his writing with random scraps of paper when she taps him on the shoulder – he hates people looking at his work when it isn't finished. Only Molly and Rose were ever allowed to read his plays before they were done. Rose because she was a writer herself and could give him some help; Molly because she would happily act out the characters so he could see how the characters' personalities worked – and she's his best friend, besides.<p>

"Is she feeling any better now?" he asks, looking hopefully up at Victoire.

She looks sad and happy at the same time, her face showing the two emotions warring with each other.

"She's severely depressed, Ly, probably suffering from alcohol withdrawals – she's used to at least one drink every day," she says, before leaning closer. "And I think she's pregnant."

Her words hang in the air as various emotions tumble through his mind. _Molly – pregnant? Who? What? Why? What? Who? Who?_

"Whose?" he says when he finally manages to say something. "Oh, Merlin – not Ivan's," he says pleadingly. Ivan Cavall had been one of Molly's boyfriends that she'd accumulated after her ascension to fame; a class-A jerk who was instantly disliked by the entire Weasley/Potter clan and their friends the one and only time they had met him. Thankfully, they had broken up after a while, but Ivan had been the last boyfriend of Molly's they had known about.

He realised Victoire had been taking and quickly pretended he had been listening all along.

"..and I think that would be the best solution, don't you agree?"

"Er – sorry, Vic, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," he answers sheepishly.

"I said that the baby should come and live with me and Teddy – it's a bit sooner than expected, but obviously Molly is in no state to take care of the baby, and I wouldn't even _think _of asking Ivan to," she says.

"No," he says firmly. "Molly wouldn't want it – she'd want to take care of it herself," he adds, not saying aloud his true thoughts that Molly would feel awful if she let someone else take care of her baby. "Aren't we jumping to conclusions, though? Is it confirmed that Molly is actually pregnant?" he asks, holding on to a shred of hope.

"If she's asleep, I'll do the spell – I don't want to frighten her unnecessarily if she isn't pregnant," she replies, walking over to the door and opening it with a creak. She looks into the living room and whispers "she's asleep."

They tiptoe over to Molly's sleeping form and Victoire lifts up Molly's shirt a little and presses her hand to Molly's bare skin, hefting her wand in her other hand. "_Esetha!_"

A bright pink and silver light sparkles just above Molly's head.

"And?" Lysander asks, looking at Victoire. He knows before she even speaks what the answer is.

"She's pregnant."

* * *

><p>Lysander tells Molly quietly the next day – they have to figure out where to go from here. She doesn't take it well.<p>

"I'm only seventeen. Barely legal," she sobs, a reminder of her words from a lifetime before.

"I know, Molly – but Victoire and I are behind you, and the rest of the family will be too, you know that," he comforts her, unsure whether he's actually making a difference.

"But I can't look after a baby! I- Lysander, look at me!" she cries, finally uncurling herself and sitting upright on the couch. He drinks in her red-rimmed eyes, and messy hair, scrutinising her and deciding which way of speaking to her will get her to listen.

"Molly, you're a mess," he says bluntly, looking her directly in the eyes. "You have to fix yourself up, not just for your sake, or my sake, but for the baby's sake." She continues crying, but he refuses to let his heart break even more than it already has over the past eighteen years. He stays silent, knowing he has said all he could say, and thinking that if this doesn't work he doesn't know what he'll do.

But he can't help himself when it comes to her. "Molly," he says, stretching out a hand.

She turns away, still crying, and for once she isn't just being overdramatic. Her entire life will change – but he will help her, every step of the way. It's what best friends do, of course.

(It doesn't matter that he still wishes they were something more)

* * *

><p>He spend all his time trying to cheer her up; they act like their 'conversation' never happened. But it hangs between them, stopping them from getting any closer emotionally.<p>

Finally, Molly brings it up.

"'Sander?" she asks in a quiet voice, moving a rook forward on the chess board.

"Yeah?" he answers, absorbed in his strategy and not really paying attention.

"I'm sorry that I don't let you help me b-be a better person, or with the b-baby, and all." Her voice wobbles, and he looks up, unconsciously moving a little closer to her.

"It's okay, Molly, when you're ready."

"W-will you come with me to t-t-the appointment, tomorrow?" she asks cautiously, and he feels honoured that she's letting him in this far. He begins to hope that maybe everything will be all right, eventually.

"I want to name her Lacey," she says suddenly, looking at him for approval.

"Lacey's a good, strong name, Molls – very good choice. You always were the one to pick good names, weren't you?" he replies. "Lacey Weasley." _Lacey Scamander_, he thinks.

She laughs, and the atmosphere is suddenly comfortable and warm, reflecting the crackling fire behind them. Since he lives in an apartment, he can't have a proper fireplace, but he has erected a magical one that houses bluebell coloured flames.

He laughs with her, and they continue the chess game in comfortable silence, the friendship (or maybe more) between them considerably less strained.

* * *

><p>Eventually, she warms to him even more, and they spend evenings like they used to, back at Hogwarts – acting out plays from Lysander's scripts. She's a bit wary of it at first, but she can't resist the lure of drama, and, as he says, it's just them.<p>

Even later, she begins to trust in herself, and in Lysander, and even begins to look forward to having a baby, though sometimes she still doubts herself.

"_What if I can't do it? What if I suddenly start drinking again and I end up being that alcoholic mother I said I'd never be?" she wails one night, taking refuge in Lysander's arms._

"_I'm here, Molly, and you won't start drinking again. I have every confidence in you."_

She will always be insecure, but he will always be by her side. And that will make all the difference.

They sit together by the roaring fire, her scribbling on a piece of parchment and him clutching a small, shiny object in his hand. He looks at her and smiles, feeling like half of an old married couple already.

"Molly, will you go out with me?"

His voice breaks the silence and she looks up from the script she's proof-reading for him to stare at him confusedly.

"Lysander, is this for one of your movies?" she asks, though she knows it isn't.

"No, Molly. We've been living together for six months now, and we've been best friends for years."

"You think that just because we're living together and that we're _friends_ means we should date?" she questions in a hurt voice. She's loved Lysander since they were fourteen, and suddenly she's being given the chance she always wanted. But she won't let herself chase dreams made of smoke that will fall apart if she gets too close.

"Molly, no! You know I've never been too good at expressing my feelings in person!" he says, and she nods in agreement. "I just..."

"Look, Molly, I know everything you've done, good _and _bad. I don't care – you know everything _I've _ever done. I've loved you since I was fifteen, Molly, and you don't know how much it hurt when you stopped talking to me. So, please? Will you be my girlfriend?" he asks, looking at her intently.

"Yes. But I have you beat by a year, you know," she giggles, and his face lights up as he breathes a relieved sigh, and places an ornate silver key in the palm of her hand.

"Thank Merlin, or what I'm about to do next would look incredibly stupid," he laughs and she looks at the key, a confused expression on her face.

"What's this?"

"A symbol of our new beginning," he says with a twinkle in his eye, and she's reminded of the reason why he's such a good scriptwriter; he's always had a flair for the dramatic.

"What is it really?" she asks with a smile, seeing through his romanticised version of the truth.

"It's a key, to a house I bought," he replies, and she stares at him, open-mouthed. Noticing Molly is uncharacteristically silent, he rambles on, somewhat nervously. "It's just, we already live together, because you never moved out; but I know a house is a bigger thing than an apartment... I mean, you don't have to move in with me straight away, or at all, if you don't want to, and it needs a lot of work, and Lacey can have her own bedroom, and…" he ended helplessly, unable to say anything else. She knows he needs a little bit of reassurance; he's always been a little insecure, just like her. She slips her hand into his and squeezes it a little. She smiles, and he smiles, and this is the happiest she has been in a long time.

"A new beginning," she repeats. "I like the sound of that."

And then, like the cliché romantic movie they saw the previous weekend, they walk off into the sunset, hands intertwined with her free hand on her stomach.

_A new beginning._


	9. Scorpius Malfoy

**title: **Man-Journal

**character/pairing: **Scorpius & Scorpius/Rose

**written by: **sherbetgirl/Jane

….

To Man-Journal,

First off, THIS IS NOT A DIARY! Secondly, I refuse to say 'dear', as it is far too feminine for such a manly Gryffindor such as myself. Shut up Al, I'm very manly!

NOW STOP READING MY DIARY MAN-JOURNAL!

Actually that reminds me…

Al, James, Hugo, Fred, Louis: If you are reading this, I'm going to hex you until you beg for mercy.

Rose: Please don't hurt me! Shut UP, Al, I am _so_ a Gryffindor! Rosie is just _bloody scary_. No offence, Rose.

Roxanne, Molly, Lucy, Lily: **WHY** are you reading this? Who put you up to this? Al, your family is evil. Don't hex me! My hair didn't lose the pink for a week after that time in March…

Dominique, Victoire, Teddy:….. How the bloody _**hell**_ did you get this? You don't even go to Hogwarts anymore!

Anyway, now that all the appropriate threats have been issued, let us get back to the issue at hand.

ME.

Yes, the wonder that is the sexy Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.

I am amazing. I am stupendous. I am confused. Yes, I, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, the amazingly stupendously sexily Gryffindor smart alec… is confused.

You see, MJ, the apocalypse has come.

Rose is (and I shudder with horror as I write this) a _girl_.

I know. Imagine my shock. I mean, _obviously_ I always knew she was a girl. I just didn't realise she had feminine tendencies.

I mean, she blushed at _Montague_, for Merlin's sake. _Langdon Montague._That stupid, stuck-up prat of a Slytherin who I had always thought was alright. Obviously, he was just being sneaky in order to corrupt my Rose.

And it's _weird._ Rose is all _giggly_ around him, and it's annoying me.

I mean, this morning, at breakfast, I was telling a joke (it was amazing, MJ, absolutely amazing) and she just _stared_ at me. But all Satan Montague had to do was send her a wink. A _bloody wink_. And she _giggled_. Like a _girl_.

I felt quite odd, to be honest. All… ROAR with no reason. Suddenly, it was like there was this bloody Hippogriff in my chest, kicking, and it bloody hurt. It also made me want to punch the devil spawn Montague. I mean, no-one makes MY Rosie giggle, apart from me, and her excessive family (… You know you love me? Don't hurt me!)

MJ, why is this so confusing? I'm a sexy, amazing, completely awesome 14 year old boy. I got a _Firebolt_ for Christmas. I should be on top of the world!

But I'm not.

(not so) Fabulously yours,

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy

_My dearest Scorpykins,_

_This is__**definitely**__a diary. Oh, of course you are. How could one such as I refute your__girliness__manliness? Oh, Scorpius, there is no point in writing such feeble threats. I shall never beg for mercy! Well… Hugo might. But that is beside the point!_

_(And you shall__**pay**__for that evil comment.. It isn't my fault your feeble mind cannot compute with the awesomeness that is me. And my family too, I guess)_

_The point is – actually, there are several points._

_ONE) Who the__**bloody hell**__told you that you were__**SEXY**__? They are sadly mistaken, my beloved mate._

_TWO) …. Who the HELL said that you were smart? They were obviously confused. How have you not managed to notice Rose is a girl? That's why she__**doesn't**__dorm with us, idiot._

_THREE) Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, I feel the need to inform you of a fact._

_You, my dearly beloved friend, are completely and utterly whipped. For a girl you aren't even dating. Merlin, Scorp, that's pathetic._

_FOUR) Ah, my darling Scorpius, that is called_jealousy_._

_FIVE) You're paying for that too. I don't love you enough to let that slide. Though I wouldn't say no to a day at Madame Puddifoots with a romantic atmosphere…. ;)_

_SIX) Merlin, where did you find all those adjectives, Scorp? Found a book of antonyms for your name?_

_SEVEN) Well, I got a_ Firebolt_two years ago. SO THERE!_

_Completely amazingly yours,_

_Albus Severus Potter_

AL! WHAT THE HELL? Did you not read where it CLEARLY STATES 'NOW STOP READING MY MAN-JOURNAL!'?

Just because you're jealous…

I know she's a girl. I just didn't realise she was a _girl_.

I AM NOT WHIPPED FOR ROSE! THAT WOULD IMPLY THAT I LIKE HER, WHICH I SO OBVIOUSLY DO DON'T! And I am _never_ pathetic.

I AM NOT JEALOUS OF THAT STUPID PRAT!

… I am wordless, Al. I didn't realise you felt that way. I must inform you I don't return your feelings, as I like your cousin am enjoying being a bachelor.

What the heck is an antonym? It sounds like some underwater fungi..

**Fine then!**Ruin my only piece of good news.

Sexily yours (except not _yours_, Al),

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy

_SCORPIKINS!_

_Of course I noticed. I just disregarded it :)_

_ONE) Oh, Scorpykins, I could totally score more girls than you._

_TWO) … Because_that_made sense, oh Lord-of-the-Words_

_THREE) Dude. You like her. You are whipped for her. She likes you, Merlin knows why. KISS THE GIRL! And you are pathetic lots of the time._

_FOUR) Scorp, you had no problem with Montague until Rose giggled.__She only giggled because he was twitching his eyelid funny__Jealousy ;)_

_FIVE) The word 'bachelor' normally implies your single status is by choice…_

_SIX) It means opposite of… Holy Merlin's green smelly boxers! I, Albus Severus Potter the Awesome, knows something that SCORPIUS HYPERION MALFOY DOESN'T! Mark it down in history, baby._

_SEVEN) It's only because it's easy to do, that I do it :)_

_A.S.P._

Asp? You want to be a snake now, do you?

I'm just going to ignore that.. See how YOU like it!

Like hell you could. Anyway, it doesn't matter because I like Rose you like Megan.

It did!

I.. maybe I do. But it doesn't make a difference, because she could never like me.

HE CORRUPTED ROSE! SHE DOESN'T GIGGLE!

… Shut up, Albus Severus.

Did you just call me _baby_?

Go away. I hate you.

S.H.M.

_Shm? And you make fun of MY initials?_

_I don't care, Scorp XD_

_ONE) Shut up, Scorp. You like my cousin. That's weird._

_TWO) No, it really didn't…_

_THREE) Scorpius, she__**does**__like you. Kiss her, you'll see._

_FOUR) … Yes,_that's_why you don't like him._

_FIVE) Oh, are you bringing middle names into this,__**SCORPIUS HYPERION?**_

_SIX) Oh, Merlin. It's a Muggle reference._

_SEVEN)__**YOU LOVE ME REALLY!**_

_A.S.P._

Dear Man-Journal,

I have big news.

_Rose_ **kissed** me!

Oh Merlin, it was _awesome_.

I sense this is the beginning of the pure awesomeness known as _Rose&Scorpius_

SCORPIUS

_Scorpius,_

_It's still a diary. You're still whipped._

_But I have to say something:_

_I TOLD YOU SO!_

_A.S.P._

_P.S. Merlin, you sound so_girly_! It scares me…_

I have recently decided I am no longer keeping a diary Man-Journal….

Farewell, MJ.

And just for the record, I do _not_ sound like a girl.

So there.


	10. Lucy Weasley

_But listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness,_

_Like a heartbeat, drives you mad,_

_In the stillness of remembering,_

_What you had, and what you lost_

-_**Dreams**_**, Fleetwood Mac**

…

**title:** once upon a time (and all that jazz)

**character/pairing:** Lucy & Lucy/Edmund/Lorcan

**notes:** uses dreamerverse canon

**written by:** Skandar-Loves-Redvines/Drishti

Let me tell you a story…

…

Once upon a time,

There was a girl and a guy,

And a dreamy little sigh.

But with a flash and a whirl,

And a pretty little twirl,

She found herself in a land,

Sans a single helping hand.

There were kings and queens,

Like in a book or a dream.

There was a dark-haired King,

With a crown on his head,

And a magical mirror,

Connected to his bed.

With a shy little smile,

And a cute little grin,

They fell in love,

And she was happy again.

But then came a day,

When the lightning rolled.

And an end to our tale,

Was made to be told.

The girl's time was up,

And gone was her luck,

She could never come back,

Not even a touch.

She was lost in a world,

Of crowns and kings,

Hidden in a land,

Of such pretty little things.

She shut herself away,

Locked the door to her tower.

And kept plucking the petals,

Of her poor lily-flower.

It took a golden-haired prince,

And a cup of lemonade,

To show her what she'd missed,

And what a life she'd made.

He brought with him,

A needle and a thread,

A bucket full of patience,

And his stable little head.

Took his princess on a date,

What brought them together?  
>Was it fate?<p>

...

Does the story end here?

Of course it doesn't!

For life is a journey,

And the princess and her prince still have a

l-o-n-g

way to go….

_(or so they think)_


	11. Lorcan Scamander: 2

**title: **from the dark he saw her light

**character/pairing: **Lorcan & Lucy/Lorcan

**written by**: BlueEyes444/Blue

**Disclaimer: I don't own **_**Harry Potter **_**or the songs.**

X

He's not Lysander, (a wildfire burning) he's just Lorcan (an icy snowball).

She's not Molly, (Sharp tongued writer) she's just Lucy (a sweet ball of sunshine).

X

Scene I:

_Here in this crowd I'm feeling all alone_

He's fifteen and she's seventeen when they first officially meet.

They're at the annual WeasleyPotterScamander gathering, and Lysander is off goofing around with Lily and Hugo and he's brooding by the stream, lost in his thoughts, lost in the emptiness that he feels, just _lost_.

"Hi, Lorcan," she says cheerfully, startling him as she sits down on the grass beside him. He doesn't look at her, barely acknowledging her with a simple nod of his head, eyes glued to the stream's water.

He doesn't know why she's there with him. They've never talked before. She's a Gryffindor. He's a Slytherin. It's a rule that they don't mix. Unless Dominique and Scorpius counts. But, they just _work_.

"Would you mind if I paint you?"

He glances at her this time, meeting lovely olive eyes. "Why?" he asks, bluntly, because he's not sure what else to say. He's never been asked that before so he's not sure how to respond. She smiles and he absently thinks she's has a pretty smile.

"It's just, well, you'll make a lovely painting," she explains, and for the first time, he notices that she's clutching a bag to her chest which he assumes is full of her art supplies.

He shrugs. "Sure, I guess." He's not sure why the words slip from his mouth but they do.

She beams and starts unloading her things from the bag. He watches her for a moment then turns back to watching the little stream. "Lucy right?" He hates to admit it but he's not sure of her name. He feels like he should, a bit guilty, but he quickly pushes it away. He doesn't like that feeling.

"Yep." Her hears her getting out her tubes of paint and he resists looking at her. Something about her movements are…almost…captivating. "Molly's my sister."

"I'm sure you know Lysander is my brother," he offers and she giggles, and for some reason, he finds it really nice to hear.

He doesn't know it then, but that solid wall of ice around is heart is slowly melting.

Scene II:

_'Cause I'm broken when I'm open  
>And I don't feel like I am strong enough<em>

He meets her again when they're back at Hogwarts and he's in the Medical Wing after falling from his broom in the middle of a Quitditch game.

She's an assistant to Healer Asotira Malfoy and she was just about to leave when Lysander and Hugo help him in.

"Lorcan?" she gasps, sounding horrified.

He's in a lot of pain, dropping a hundred feet does that to you, and he's not that coherent but when he hears her voice, something changes.

It's nothing big and he doesn't know about it, but some of that wall around his heart starts melting a bit more.

He passes out after that and he's unconscious for the better part of two days but he's pretty sure he remembers her talking to him a lot.

He's not sure what he feels about this.

He avoids her for two weeks after that.

Scene III:

_How can you see into my eyes like open doors?  
>Leading you down into my core where I've become so numb<em>

He's slinking around in the corridors, his insomnia full string, when he runs into her again. She's dressed in a long white and quite lacy nightgown that shows off her curves perfectly; her feet are bare.

"Lorcan," she greets him cheerfully and he finds himself unable to meet her gaze which he hates.

She steps closer to him and was it just him or did it get a lot warmer?

"Lorcan, look at me," she says gently, placing her hands gently on his shoulders and he can't stop himself from looking up and meeting her gaze and when he meets those olive colored eyes, that stupid cliché comes into work about sparks flying.

He feel something and he can't place it because he's justsonumb but it's there and he doesn't know what to do.

But he's Lorcan Scamander and he's done always one thing, and that is, he runs.

He jerks away from her, giving his best apologetic look, because it's not her fault that he's so freakin' messed up.

He backs away, hating himself more then he already does when those sweet, sweet eyes fill up with pain and hurt and confusion and all he can do is run.

Act IIII:

_Louder, louder  
>The voices in my head<br>Whispers taunting_

He insolates himself after the late night encounter with Lucy.

He just don't know what to do.

Only one other person has managed to get under his defenses like she can and that's Lysander.

He doesn't have any friends, unless you count Lysander and Lily so incolating himself isn't much of a problem.

He's never liked most people anyway.

Maybe he doesn't like hanging around with a lot of people because it hurts his head and the noise is too loud and God, he just wants to sleep.

Now, all he just wants to do is cry and apologize to the pretty girl who he just walked away from but he can't because as a Slytherin, he doesn't apologize.

Maybe that's why he's hiding in the Room of Requirement because he can't take contact from people right now.

He's feeling a toss of emotions, and he's never felt like this before and maybe that's why he just wants it to all go away.

He's losing control, and control means everything for him.

He pictures those eyes (Her eyes) in his mind and he wills himself not to lose his hold on his control.

(That wall of ice has grown around his heart.)

Act V:

_Don't go around tonight_

_Well, it's bound to take your life,_

_There's a bad moon on the rise_

Its three weeks since he last saw her and she's still there, lingering in his mind.

He doesn't like this. That a girl he met not even five times has had such a hold on him.

It doesn't help that Ly seems to enjoy bringing her up every chance he gets. He suspects that his twin knows but neither one says a word.

His dreams have suddenly become darker and he finds himself awake more and more because he just can'ttakeit.

He tries to see that him being a Seer is a good thing. But, there's no silver lining to this cloud.

He dreams of blood and death and things that you can't possibly imagine and all he can do is struggle with the fact he may not be in time to save them.

He finds comfort in the dark, in being alone.

And that's why he finds himself wandering through the night, desperate to escape from his dreams and it shows how out of it he is because he runs right into her.

He catches her by the arm and when he meets those eyes, all he can see is her.

They stare at each other for a moment, and all he can think of is of her and just for those few seconds, it doesn't feel like he's dying anymore.

But, suddenly, something pulls him back and he jerks his hand off her arm, breathing heavily.

"Lorcan?" she says slowly, and he shakes his head, his light colored hair flying, and he can only picture how mad he looks like.

"Lorcan?" she repeats and suddenly, something in him _snaps_.

"Lucy," he moans and suddenly, that talltalltall wall of ice that has built around his heart shatters and he's sobbing uncontrollably in her arms.

Act VI:

_Try to slip past his defense  
>Without granting innocence<em>

He can't stand the fact he lost it in front of her.

So he holes up in Flourish and Blotts because he finds it so much easier to deal with the noise in his head there, and the feelings that he can't place and the fact that his life is _out of control_.

He distances himself from Lysander, something he loathes but he just can't take much contact with people right now.

He does this for months and he still can't figure things out.

He's lost in a book he's come across and then, there she is.

He's robbed of his thoughts and breath and mind for a moment because it's her. Her whose presence whose been with him for so long.

She smiles and maybe it's the kindness in it that forces him to drop his guard.

She sits down beside him and he's reminded off the first time they met.

She starts speaking, talking first about random things, about how she's missed painting him, then she moves on to more serious things and he's left confused and amazed that she cares about _him_.

He doesn't know what prompts him but he starts talking and he can't stop. He tells about his dreams and how horrible they are, and how he can't stand to be around other people because of them and how he's so, so sorry.

And then she says she understands and he knows she really does and he's left with a peace he hasn'tt felt in a long time.

She then grabs his hand and he loves itsomuch and drags him out of the backroom and then there they are, his brother and Molly waiting for them.

She releases him and then Lysander is hugging him tightly and in that moment, with his brother holding him, everything's just all right.

Act VII:

It's magic, I can tell  
>How you set me free<br>Brought me out so easily

.

Hi, Lorcan," she says cheerfully, startling him as she sits down on the grass beside him. He smiles but doesn't tear his eyes away from their niece who is toddling around the yard.

"Hey, Luc."

"Would you mind if I paint you?"

"I thought you might have enough paintings," he teases.

"It's just, well, you'll make a lovely painting," she explains and he can hear the smile in her voice.

"Okay, okay," he says, laughing as he turns to her. "But only if you kiss me first."

"Deal," she says before kissing his lips with her own.

X

They may not be Lysander&Molly,

And they're far from perfect,

But they work.

X

The End

Songs used:

Life on the Moon: David Cook

Broken: Seether feat. Amy Lee

Bring me to Life: Amy Lee feat. Seether

Haunted: Kelly Clarkson

Bad Moon Rising: Rasputina

How to Save a Life: The Fray

Under Your Spell: Amber Benson


	12. Victoire Weasley: 2

**title: **green

**character/pairing: **Victoire & Victoire/Teddy/Lily, Victoire/Neville

**written by: **xrawrDINOSAURx/Jenny

...

She glances at the clock for the hundredth time that evening. It is their anniversary, their one year anniversary, and Teddy is supposed to be here and they're supposed to be having fun, drinking wine, celebrating. But he isn't home and she isn't having fun, the cold marble is slippery against her skin, the flesh over her knuckles is stretched tight.

She takes another small sip from her wine glass, biting her lip, tapping her feet…

The door opens, and she straightens immediately.

"Hey, Vic, sorry I'm late," he hangs up his jacket, oblivious (and she thinks, oh God, since when have they become this…this typical, ordinary [break-up] couple from those Muggle movies?).

She doesn't say a word (she's following the script, and…and that's good, right?)

"'Tor? You okay?" He notices the glass of wine in her hand, and the banner reading _Happy Anniversary, Teddy_ and the food, untouched, on the table—and he groans (and it almost sounds convincing). "Oh, _Merlin_, I'm so, so, so sorry!"

(he's following the script too, and two can play at that game.)

She sits stone-still, toxic thoughts making their way through her brain, depriving her of energy. She crosses and uncrosses her legs as he watches her.

"Where were you." her voice sounds distorted, stiff and cold, and it's more of a statement than a question. He looks relieved at this opportunity to redeem himself, stumbling over his words as he says something about 'talking to Lily' and 'losing track of time'—oh, _Merlin_, she's going to throw up.

A stab of—dare she think it?—jealousy plunges into her heart and her blood pools at her feet. Another wave of undeniable nausea sweeps through her as wine forces its way up her throat—she swallows and closes her eyes.

"Vic? I'm sorry—I just—Lily needed me, and—"

(the typical 'she-needed-me' line. forget following the script; it's practically his Bible.)

Victoire knows of Lily's little _crush_ on Teddy. In fact, everyone seems to know but the object of affection himself. Her heart twists uncomfortably as she thinks of seventeen-year-old Lily with her fire hair and black-ink tattoo, and the way her green eyes seem to _lure people in—_she stops thinking.

"Needed you for what?" she puts up her defenses and thrusts her chin out defiantly, letting him know she's not about to forgive him so quickly. She smiles snidely and the feeling at the pit of her stomach takes control. "Helping her out of her clothes, maybe?"

Teddy stares, Adam's apple bobbing slightly in his throat, and she reads right through him. "What?"

She laughs derisively; it is an unfamiliar sound, heard from old Hogwarts days and fading when she'd finally decided to grow up, and now it is back. "She's trying to _seduce you_."

(he blinks and follows the script exactly.) "I don't know what you're talking about, Tori." She laughs again, emotions building up in her and she isn't sure what to feel now. So she laughs and tosses her blonde hair back, and wears this expression of contempt.

"She's _in love with you_." The words ring in the room and the silence is louder than ever—louder than her laughs and his carefully-worded replies. He loves her, she knows.

"Lily—" he's staring at her with an unfathomable expression, voice husky and hands trembling at his sides. "Lily wouldn't do that."

The skin over her knuckles whitens again and she gets off the counter to place her wineglass carefully in the sink. She takes her time to place her plate and silverware back into the cabinet, aware of his eyes on her, and then she goes to stand in front of him.

"What's my favorite color?" she hisses, and her eyes pierce into Teddy's as he contemplates his answer. His eyes go through the colors of the rainbow, hoping to elicit a reaction of some sort when he passes through her favorite, but to no avail.

She stands there (throwing away the script in which she and Teddy get over this little spat and go back to living their dreary lives), arms crossed over her chest. (because her life isn't some movie or play where she and Teddy end up happily-ever-after, especially when the relationship is loveless, indeed)

The fact is, she knows they've lost the (maybe) love they once felt for each other, this burning spark (or maybe it was just the intensity and animosity of being _young_ and _naïve_, but their Honeymoon Phase is long gone.)

But still she looks for it—for the fire and passion and sunlight—and _sometimes_ she thinks she _does_ see it.

(maybe if she works hard enough to follow this script, they'll make it back—no. the script is gone and a new one is being written as she thinks.)

"Green." He sounds sure when he says his answer.

She holds his gaze for a minute before breaking it, and then she goes to bed.

The next morning is tense.

"Eggs?" she offers stiffly, and he knows her well enough to politely refuse.

She picks at her food, poking it with her fork and moving it around her plate—and this reminds her of a time when she was little and Teddy was the only one who could convince her to eat—she makes a point to shovel her eggs into her mouth after that memory.

It's a quiet breakfast, a quiet morning with clear blue skies and sun shining down upon the little cottage they call home.

("It would've been a great morning," she thinks absently. She would've woken up with Teddy at her side, bare legs entangled and torsos touching, smiling at each other as he gently rubs soothing circles on her back, and then he would've made her breakfast and they would've laughed and—)

What was the point of this again? She glances at Teddy, on the opposite end of the table, back slightly hunched and eyes trained carefully on the newest edition of the _Daily Prophet._ He appears to be fine, pretending that nothing happened yesterday, and that they're _perfectly_ fine.

He finishes eating first, placing his dishes in the sink. "Should I…?"

She shakes her head swiftly, and no emotion passes through the space between them. "No. I'll do it."

He nods and returns to the bedroom to change his clothes for work.

They have become, she realizes with a certain sense of impending doom, the couple that attempts small talk and follows routine_ (script)_ and whose lives together have become lackluster. A couple of minutes later, he appears through the bedroom door with the cliché Tie Dilemma, and holds up two ties: one red, one…green.

She brings her eyes up to meet his after tearing them away from the ties clutched in his hands—ties that seem like nooses, now that she thinks about it—those nooses that can easily be strung upon a man's neck to wring him with.

"Red," she says without emotion, and he understands.

She spends the day awaiting his arrival home (isn't this a repeat of yesterday? merlin, whoever wrote this new script must not have been a very creative person) and sends cleaning spells to and fro.

"It's hers," she greets when he walks in through the front door, indelible disappointment carved in her every word. He looks bewildered. "The color green. It's her favorite."

She doesn't have to say a word for him to know who's she's talking about. He blinks again. "Yeah."

"Mine is red," she adds as an afterthought. "I just thought you ought to know."

"Right," he says painfully. "I—I s'pose I'll go pack my bags now?" He sets down his briefcase (oh, what ordinary lives they lead) and geins to trudge slowly into the bedroom.

She watches him, hand clenched around a necklace he once gave her long ago—and this is the script, this is exactly how it's supposed to go—

But as her beating heart begins to empty itself of built-up tears and (hypothetical) l-o-v-e and dreams of babies with every-changing eyes, she…

Can't go through with it. So as the moment passes, she shreds the script in her very-own patented Mental Paper Shredder—(she should really get a mental-script-shredder, since that seems to be all she's been doing for the past two days.)

She holds it in as he packs in the bedroom, hearing him stuff his clothes listlessly into a duffel bag, a suitcase, whatever. She holds it in, the tears and pain and her loss of the only shot at love—

And then when he walks out, suitcase in hand and duffel bag in the other, hair ruffled, eyes dull—

She cries. She cries, and she cries, and she cries for as long as she can recall, throwing herself into his arms as he drops the traveling bags with a heavy thud, and then she leans into him and soaks his shirt with her salty tears.

And when she feels the _drip, drip, drip_ of tears on the top of her head, she stands there as his arms circle her and eventually, she asks him something. It comes out muffled, so she pulls away and looks at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"How many times?" she mutters, hoarse.

"Three," he replies after a minute, gazing at her sorrowfully.

Her eyes widen slightly and her lips press together, but she doesn't say a word.

"It was just kissing," he says softly, eyes never leaving her face.

She swallows tightly. "Do you…do you love her?"

He doesn't answer. She closes her eyes.

"Don't leave," she whispers, and she knows she's being selfish, keeping Teddy for herself when it's obvious there are no sparks, no passion, no _life_. And although she knows he'll love Lily in his heart, love her with all he can while he's with his desperate, desperate wife—she just can't.

She just can't have him leave her because then she's the girl who's alone and terrified and heartbroken—and she can't be that girl.

So she keeps him for herself (like a selfish little spoiled child). And he nods because he _can't_ say no, can't refuse because _he_ was the cheater, and this is something he owes her. An obligation. A favor.

He stays and wraps strong arms around her and lets her cry into his shirt, and then he goes back to the bedroom.

And unpacks.

The following months are…mundane. She and him stay together (and this new script is now _new script: revised edition)_ and Lily is avoided, and _Merlin_, is she pathetic.

She spends most of her time thinking about if she did the right thing every time he kisses her softly, sweetly.

But she knows it's all pretend, deep down. All of this is _pretend_ and they're both damn good actors, so hey feign happiness and fake love and when they're at family reunions, smiles are plastered (and Lily is, time and time again, avoided).

At home, it's awkward. They don't speak. They sleep on opposite sides of the bed, never touching. He kisses her occasionally, but only on the cheek. She does not wish to be tainted by the lips of her cousin's almost-lover. _Her _husband.

And Merlin, this life of selfishness is far too complicated and uncomfortable, and _goddammit_, maybe she should've let him go.

It's almost April, her birthday, and she promises herself to let him leave before then. They days pass with no events whatsoever and then it's April 7th, one day before her birthday—and she reminds herself of the promise.

"You can go," she says one night during dinner, pushing the food around her plate as she's been doing for the past couple of weeks (three, to be exact), and he glances up from the _Daily Prophet_ in surprise.

He stares. He's been doing that a lot lately. "What?"

"You can leave. Go to Lily," she repeats (). He's frozen, fork halfway to his mouth, _Daily Prophet_ held in one limp hand. He swallows visibly. "I…are you—are you sure? You sound a little…delusional there, Tor."

"I'm serious," she says blatantly, attempting indifference and to her surprise, it works well.

He looks, unsure at her. "I…I couldn't do that to you after…" he winces. She shakes her head. (and continues to follow the stupid, fucking script)

"It's okay. I'm okay. I swear." He still looks skeptical. "We've been so tense for the past couple of weeks, and…and I think it'd be best if you'd l-eave. Every time I see you, I think of her, and…it wasn't my best decision forcing you to stay." She looks down at her plate and hopes he doesn't notice the tears burning in her eyes.

"But you didn't force me," he protests—always the good guy, Teddy Lupin. She knows him enough to see he isn't going to leave if she's going for this angle—and brings it up a notch.

"Leave, Teddy!" her voice rises a pitch, and although this is _pretend_ anger—she can't help but notice how her voice, disembodied, sounds like she's _actually_ mad—and she hasn't been mad in weeks and weeks, and the anger's just…pouring out of her; she doesn't even have to _try_ to make it believable. All this pent-up anger is getting released out of her—anger from _no, not being cheated on_—the fact that it was with her youngest cousin, the one who used to run around in messy braids and cute little sundresses she, herself, forced the child to put on—and it makes her mad because how can she betray her like that?

Somehow, it was inevitable. Teddy and she would not last long in their marriage. Inexplicably she'd known this and refused to acknowledge it, and her frustration at herself for _not listening _to what her conscience has been telling her for the past five years—it all breaks loose form its invisible bonds and _hell_, she's _furious_.

"LEAVE, Teddy, because I don't want you here, and Lily is _goddamn_ waiting for you. So just _go_, and please, _please_ don't call me, or Owl me, because I don't give a damn what you and Lily do from this point beyond," she rages at him, calm-cool-ice queen Victoire morphing into a doppelganger of her past self, into _volcano_ Victoire as she erupts. "Don't tell me—don't try and be the fucking good guy, when _this_ is all your fault—and don't pretend you're—you _care_. I just want you to _go!"_

He, ever the (fucking) good guy, stands there and absorbs it all, guiltily, guiltily, and a sick sort of satisfaction washes over her. Striding briskly into the bedroom, she grabs his suitcases, shoves everything that is _his_, smells like him, _reminds_ her of him—and she packs it all away.

And then he leaves, and her fears come true, and she's the lonely girl who lost her chance.

(and the script is still somehow there—torn and battered—and this is more of a tragedy than a love story, she thinks bitterly, and wishes it all away.)

He is gone by the next morning, leaving her only a tattered note with the words _'I'm sorry; I love her'_ scribbled hastily—and she sits down, the numbness picking at her bones, feeling nothing—_nothing_—anywhere.

(she doesn't even cry, like the script tells her to)

She just sits in her numbness until one of her cousins call, of her siblings, or her parents, and she waits, and waits, and waits.

The ringing continues. She starts, sitting up from her curled position on their (her) couch, and presses the talk button shakily.

"Tori."

The sound of her sister's voice is almost surreal; it feels like everything's been stripped of their normalcy, and hearing Dom sound harsh and fierce brings her back.

"Hi, Dom," she replies, voice sounding oddly faint. There is a brief crackling noise as she hears her younger sister sigh, and she can almost imagine Dom running a hand through her short pixie-cut.

"Did, uh, did Teddy leave?" Dom asks awkwardly, undoubtedly thinking back to times when the sisters would fight and fight over him (she remembers; Dom always wanted everything she couldn't have) and Victoire smiles faintly before realizing her sister can't see her.

She clears her throat. "I'm fine." (avoid the question, dear, just like you're avoiding the inevitable—feel the break of your heart and the emptiness and the silence, _feel_)

She hears static again; Dominique is sighing again, this time exasperatedly.

"No, you're not. I'm coming. Get dressed; wear the slinkiest black dress you can find, because tonight…" Dominique pauses for dramatic effect (she's a better actress than Victoire herself; why couldn't she have gotten the part instead? the part, the lines, the script), then continues. "…we're going out."

Her younger sister hangs up before she can protest, and with a defeated sigh, she trudges to her bedroom, throws on the first black, slinky dress she can find (oh, believe me, it ain't that easy) and waits.

A sudden banging sound indicates her sister's arrival. Her sister is dressed to kill, Victoire muses, blinking at Dom's red dress, neckline dipping low and waistline emphasizing her hips. She then glances down at herself, wearing an old dress from back in Hogwarts, no makeup on, hair not brushed.

Dominique contemplates. "We can fix it."

(her heart sinks—following the script is almost a second instinct by now)

"Do we have to?" she asks Dom, grabbing her sister's hand with newly manicured nails, looking guilty as she chews hesitantly on her bottom lip.

"_Yes_," Dominique says firmly, with a tone of finality, and pulls her older sister through the door with an air of confidence.

Immediately, they are swarmed with men: some _very_ good-looking and some…not so much.

She makes her way through them, seducing and letting them _touch_ her with reckless abandon, and she feels dirty, _used_, but she continues to curve her lips up and glance at random guys through thick eyelashes.

She spots one guy at the bar she hasn't gotten the chance to 'meet' yet and heads over, swinging her hips unnecessarily and locking her enticing gaze on the dark-haired man sitting slumped on the wooden seat.

She leaves her many fans and blatantly sits down beside him, glancing carefully at him through the corner of her eye, and she recognizes the dark eyes and the war-worn lines of a man almost _twice_ her age. (Neville.)

She blinks at him with his sunken eyes and tears glistening on his face, at the stubble on his chin, and finally, she glances down at his left hand as he swirls a vacant finger in the whiskey glass—

There is empty space where his ring should be, and in its place is a stark-white line surrounded by tan skin—

She looks down at her own left hand, thoughts swarming as her own ring glitters in the reflection from the glass. (is this even part of the script?)

She slips the ring off with shaking fingers, tosses it into his glass, watching it as it sinks slowly to the bottom, the diamond losing its shine in the coppery liquid—She wiggles her fingers, a weight lifted off of her hand (her heart)—

She begins to talk and for once, it doesn't seem rehearsed.


	13. Roxanne Weasley: 2

**title**: Foreign Emotion

**character/pairing**: Roxanne & Roxanne/Scorpius

**written by**: Dramione Forever/Dra

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters they belong to JK Rowling.**

They had disliked each other from the first moment they had met; you could even say that they almost hated each other. It was expected after all, she was a Weasley and he was a Malfoy, it was in their blood. Roxanne had never hated or disliked anyone before in her life. Her family annoyed her but that was it, sometimes her family was a simple annoyance but she couldn't say she hated or disliked any of them because after all, they were her family and she loved them.

She knew that everyone knew her feelings towards him at the start. Everyone went on about the hatred between Rose and Scorpius, but the relationship between her and Scorpius simply intrigued people and they found it interesting. It was mild dislike, yet could at times border on hatred, depending on the situation. They had had a few fights over the years, which always drew an audience.

Roxanne had traded insults with him over the years; she had smirked at him and even taunted him. She could never fully explain it, all she knew was that he got right under her skin, but what surprised her even more than that was the magnetic pull she felt towards him even when they fought. No matter how hard she tried she could not deny it. If anyone had told her during her first year that by the end of her fifth year she would end up dating Scorpius Malfoy and worse still end up falling in love with him, she would have laughed in their face and called them crazy.

Back then, she could never have comprehended this, but that is exactly what she had gone and done. She dreaded to think what her family would say when they found out that they were now dating. Roxanne truly loved her family, even when they annoyed her. However, she had never felt this way about a guy, and what shocked her more was the intensity of her feelings, especially because they were towards him.

Yes, hatred was in their blood, the Weasleys and the Malfoys had always hated each other for as long as she could remember. Nevertheless, _they_ didn't hate each other and she could not deny her feelings even if she wanted to. Roxanne Weasley had never experienced true love in the whole meaning of the word. It had been an entirely foreign emotion to her until she had met him, until now.


	14. Albus Potter

**character/pairing: **Albus & Albus/OC  
><strong>written by<strong>: RoseScor90/ Nina

He was the breaker; it was a known fact. Whether it was a heart or a jaw, he would always be the one landing the blow, never the other way round. But of course, here he was, only just managing to stay above the water level. Sinking was definitely not an option, because he was _Albus Potter_ and…did you really need any more reason?

_Heartbroken_. The word came upon him as he leaned his head against his bedpost, unaware. There was no way he was going to accept that; so he took the best way out, he ignored it and labeled the very concept unimaginable, laughable indeed. In fact, Albus could think of several things that could prove that he was very far from being wrecked. For instance, which broken person would be sitting on his bed at the wee hours (according to him, anyway) of the morning, completely ready for school, waiting for his friend? Admittedly, he wouldn't have to wait long, since he knew Scorpius would be ready in a few minutes, but that wasn't the point. What did matter was that despite all that had happened, and no, Albus had no wish to share what _had_ happened, he was not hiding away like some injured kitten. He was up, about and completely normal.

"Al? Albus!" Scorpius nearly had to shake his friend before his green eyes focused.

"Scor?"

"Yes, your oh so dear best mate. Now, are you ready to go?" Without waiting for him to nod, Scorpius walked down the stairs; Albus followed at a slower pace. Only because he always liked to make an entrance, surely not because he was dreading going to the Great Hall. No way, not ever. People stared as they walked by; to Albus, it was nothing more than a normal occurrence; he had gotten used to it a while ago.

_You're always in the spotlight, Albus; I don't want the same thing for me._ Her words echoed in his mind and he cursed himself; he ought to have left all those memories of her behind by now.

"Looks like we made Rose wait again, Al." Scorpius commented happily as he stepped inside the hall unhindered. Albus cast a discreet look at the blue and bronze table; he knew for sure that she wouldn't be here; she had been hiding for the past week, which gave him an insane satisfaction that he wasn't struggling alone.

_She shouldn't be there, she shouldn't be there_ and there she was. Albus took a step behind, only the door at his back stopping him from outright running away; it _hurt_.

"Al?" Scorpius' concerned voice brought him back from his painful thoughts and he grinned, unconvincingly from Scorpius' shake of the head, and concentrated on insignificant things so as to keep such pricks of pain away.

"Late again? Why do the two of you sleep in _all the damn time_?" Rose complained as they took their normal seats. Rose had taken to sitting at the Slytherin table ever since Albus had been sorted into the house, and had managed to make a lot of friends there.

And one such friend of hers, who just so happened to be her boyfriend, who was also his best mate and also a Malfoy, sat beside her, opposite him, grinning at his cousin as though she had just paid them a compliment.

"The better to stay awake in class, of course." Albus answered unconsciously, his eyes elsewhere. Or better put, on the Ravenclaw table behind him. So she had finally dragged herself out of the hole, had she? And she looked like it, Albus thought vindictively as he took note of the terrible state she was in and the miserable expression that seemed to be forever stamped on her face. Their eyes met once over the crowd and din, and both quickly averted their eyes, Albus turning around to eat.

A few minutes had passed peacefully when Rose casually asked, "Al, did you stab Smith with a fork or something?"

Albus, who had just taken a swallow of the pumpkin juice, her favorite drink he remembered with increasing ire, choked. After a flutter of coughing, he finally got around to answering her question, "No, why?"

"Nothing in particular, but she just happens to be glaring holes at the back of your head for no apparent reason." Albus didn't need to turn to confirm the fact; he could already feel the hairs on the back of his neck bristle from her glower. What didn't help was that he knew the exact reason for her behavior but pretended to be ignorant; wasn't he an expert at that by now?

"Oh, never mind." Rose and Scorpius exchanged a knowing glance over Albus' bent head before they resumed eating.

XXXXXXXX

_Madness, lunacy, absolute insanity was what this was_; Melanie acknowledged that, and more. Hearing her friend huff in frustration, she placed a hand on Hephzibah Smith's hand which was holding a wand under the table.

Said friend lifted her head, her thoughts clear on her face; fury, outrage, and a thirst for revenge. Melanie understood where she came from, but it was, after all, her problem and for once, she was loath to let her friend act for her.

"It's not his fault, Hepsy. I told you, _I_ broke up with _him_ because I wanted to. It was a dare, nothing more, and now it's over. He's moved on, you can see that, why do you insist on hurting him?" Feeling Hepsy's incredulous gaze on her face, Melanie kept her head down, apparently very much interested in a loose thread in her cloak.

"Have _you_ moved on, Mel?" The question startled her and Melanie almost laughed. _Move on?_ A strangled laugh broke from her before she could stop it.

"I suppose I have." As if to prove her point, Melanie stabbed the mashed potatoes before her with a fork, playing with it, eating not even a bit of it.

"And that display of pretend eating is supposed to convince me? I will get back at him, Mel. Just you wait. What does he think? That he can waltz into your life, trample all over your heart and walk away unscathed? If he thinks that, he has yet to meet Hephzibah Smith." Melanie tuned out the rest of her friend's rant. Somehow, even after Melanie had explained the situation, Hepsy insisted that Albus was at fault and refused to listen to Melanie's words.

She had been the one who hurt him, as she had planned; she had achieved her goal, he was destroyed; the dare was complete and so was her mission to bring Albus Potter down; so why did she feel like she had lost the most important battle in her life?

"He's leaving. Do you think I could slip a stinging hex without being noticed?"

"You won't, Hepsy. I've told you so many times, let it go, leave it…" Her words trailed away as Albus turned to look at her before he left. One look into his eyes and she knew exactly what he was feeling – anger, frustration, helplessness, sorrow, misery…Melanie was surprised to see that above all, hate reigned in his expression, followed by confusion and questions.

With a minute shake of her head, she deterred him; with a sigh, his ever expressive face took an emotion she couldn't swallow: _defeat_. He trudged out of the Hall behind his friends, her eyes following him until he was out of sight.

"Where are you going?"

"The Dorms." With that simple answer, Melanie walked out herself, leaving her friend behind to fume. She couldn't care; she was already lost in all those memories.

_The Dorms… Where it all started…_

"_Truth or Dare, Wood?" Jessica Henson, a fellow Ravenclaw asked as they sat in a neat circle in the Girls' Dorms, enjoying their sleepover. A few girls from the other houses were there too, but it was mostly just the Ravenclaws._

"_Um…" Melanie hesitated but before she could answer, Hepsy interrupted._

"_If you choose truth one more time, Mel, I swear I'll jump off the damn tower." The group laughed at that, well acquainted with Melanie's never-take-a-risk attitude._

_Dreading what she was about to say, Melanie whispered, "D…Dare." Making the rest of them gasp, Hepsy most of all. Jessica smiled, the wicked glint in her eyes unsettling Melanie; whatever dare she was going to give wouldn't be easy._

"_Mm…what dare would you likely struggle with most? Maybe failing an exam…no, that would be too easy." Melanie let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding._

"_Ah, I have just the thing. We all know that Albus Potter, playboy extraordinaire, is single at the moment. I dare you, Melanie, to date him and in the process, break his heart." There was a collective gasp that echoed through the room, none more than Hepsy's._

"_Jess! You know Mel hates going on dates in public!" Most of the people seated around nodded; it was no secret that Melanie hated dates. No-one knew why, but they knew the fact very well._

"_I never said anything about a public date, did I?" Melanie sighed, relieved. She smiled confidently at Jessica, when she felt anything but._

"_Consider it done." The game moved on, but Melanie had little to no interest in it after that. Her mind kept revolving around her task: capture Albus Potter. She might as well try to bottle a tornado in a glass jar._

Melanie sported a small smile as she entered the Ravenclaw common room to find Jessica seated on the couch, moping. When she entered, her eyes flew frantically to Melanie's and only on seeing her did she relax. Something was definitely off, Melanie could tell. Over the years, the girls in her dorm and even the rest of the Ravenclaw girls had come to trust her as a secret keeper. They came to her with their troubles and somehow, whatever she said seemed to help them. Melanie sighed wryly, wondering what she'd say to herself if she sought herself for advice. The notion was quite confusing and Melanie refused to dwell on it while Jessica was obviously distressed.

"Melanie!" Jessica swung up from her position on the couch, holding onto her as if she was some kind of lifeline. Melanie could feel the other girl shake with sobs and held her tight as she moved to make her sit on the couch she had been occupying before.

"Jess, Jess calm down. Whatever it is, you crying your eyes out like this won't help. What will Brad think when…" Jessica's choke was enough of an answer for Melanie; Brad was the cause for all these waterworks.

"I don't care about that dunderhead! I wish the Giant Squid would just swallow him up!" Melanie watched in shock as Jessica went on to wish the most painful death on her long time boyfriend. No-one was very sure when Jessica and Brad had started dating; they always had been, so far as anyone could remember.

"Whoa, Jess! Wait, stop, and take a breath. Now tell me what happened." This effectively stopped Jessica's swearing, but a few stray tears still managed to escape. Wiping them away furiously, Jessica stood up so suddenly that Melanie almost toppled.

"No need, Melanie. I've made up my mind. I'll forget that undeserving git; I'll move on. He'll see that I'm no weakling." If anything could have frightened Melanie more than an angry Jessica, it would have to be this side of her; hurt, furious and determined. She knew all too well the disastrous effects that would bring about.

"What happened, Jess? Did the two of you have a misunderstanding?" Her words seemed to set Jessica off as she started pacing, muttering furiously under her breath.

"Misunderstanding? I don't think he could ever have misunderstood what I told him. If he did, he's even more of a dimwit than I'd thought him." Jessica's eyes were wide and Melanie belatedly realized that she was trying to hold in her tears.

"What did you tell him, Jess? What's got you so upset? Why don't you tell me what happened?" Melanie drew Jessica by the hand and made her sit on the couch again, knowing that Jessica would likely harm herself if she were to rage like this for longer.

"It's foolish, Melanie. I thought it was all right, since we have been dating for so long anyway and I thought it was natural and…I told him I loved him!" Melanie gasped, but even as surprise set in her mind, she could understand Jessica. Dating was all well and good, but love…it was a serious thing. But they had been dating long enough, Melanie couldn't comprehend why Brad had behaved as he had, upsetting Jessica.

"What did Brad say?" she whispered, not wanting to disturb Jessica anymore than she already was.

"Nothing. He said nothing. He didn't even say that he didn't feel the same way. He couldn't even bother." Jessica choked over her own words, hiding her face between her hands.

"He broke up with you?" Melanie placed a hand around Jessica's shoulder to comfort her and was about to say something, anything to soothe her when the portrait hole opened suddenly; a distinct voice's swearing was heard clearly, "Damn door."

Melanie would have laughed if Jessica hadn't stiffened suddenly, alerting Melanie to who was coming.

"Maybe he is coming to break up with me officially." Jessica said gloomily.

"Whatever it is, Jess, I think you should give him a chance to explain himself. Don't run away with your assumptions. Please?" Melanie walked out of the commonroom, wanting to give the two of them privacy to sort things out.

The corridors were deserted at this time of the morning, students being stuck in classes; it was only the Seventh Year Ravenclaws who had the hour off. She should have been in the library, doing her homework, but there was no hope for her to finish her assignments anyway; they seemed to pile up as quickly as she completed them. But it wasn't fair for her to be loitering the corridors like that either.

Belatedly, Melanie realized that she was roaming the corridors on the off chance that _he_ might have skived the class off and might be around somewhere. Berating herself for her stupid, thoughtless actions, she took the next available turn; the corridor that led straight to her Charms classes.

_The Corridors…where too many unwanted people bump into each other…_

_Melanie hurried through the corridors, trying to make haste and think up a solution at the same time. Since that seemed to work the other way hindering both, she stopped, turning around to walk in the other direction. She would go to class and sit beside her friend, not ignore her like a pack of Blast-ended Skrewts. There was no use in trying to hide it even to herself, anyway._

_It had been a week since the game and a week, consequently, since she had agreed to fake date Albus Potter and trick him. A snail crawling would have made better progress than she for all the effort she was putting in. It wasn't that she was lacking ideas, but all of them seemed just too…revolting. Not that the mere notion of fooling a guy who was said to be dangerous wasn't alarming, but still, **she** who had never done anything the least bit dishonorable had to make a damned fool of a guy by **dating** him?_

_Melanie shook her head as she adjusted the pile of books in her hand, all the while thinking up ways to face the demon a.k.a. Albus Potter._

**_Hello, I'm Melanie Wood. I'm sure you'd have seen me in one of those awful memorial parties and I'd like to date you?_**_ Too stupid; he'd think she was another one of his brainless fangirls or worse, that she stalked him._

**_Hi there! You are Albus Potter, aren't you?_**_ That would make it seem like she didn't know who he was which was utterly absurd._

**_I know who you are_**_ Oh, hell! Was she trying to sound like a villain from a suspense novel? Melanie was almost sure she had lifted that line out of some mystery novel she had recently read. She wasn't sure which one it was and was trying to recollect when…_

"_Ow!" The clanking of metal told her what she had crashed against, even before she opened her eyes to see the heap of metal that had once been a suit of armor._

"_Oh no! You were daydreaming when walking, weren't you? That's never a good idea, dear." The head offered patronizingly as she tried to move herself from where she was stuck under the pile of books and parts of the armor._

"_Hey there, are you alright?" A soft concerned voice sounded from somewhere above her, but she couldn't really see the face. Before she could guess, a hand presented itself in her line of vision and Melanie took it gladly, lifting herself out of the mess._

"_Of course, just ignore the poor scrap of metal lying here for a pretty girl. Figures," With a wave of his wand, the armor was back in place and with a quick 'Thanks Lad', the thing, mercifully, shut up._

"_Th…Thanks." Melanie blurt out, her natural shyness in the presence of new people taking over her resolve. All her preparation had gone to waste; she couldn't even muster a good enough topic to speak about with him. How, oh how, was she to date him and, heaven forbid, break his heart? It would have been almost effortless to make his head explode with her plainness, on the other hand. _

"_No problem. Do you need help with those? The books seem rather heavy and I'm sure you're still a bit disoriented from the fall." Melanie nodded dumbly, walking towards her next class; Charms._

"_So, I'm pretty sure I've seen you before at one of those dreadfully boring parties," he wondered, and lowering his face to her ear, whispered, "Only don't tell anyone I said that." He winked, as she had seen him wink at numerous girls, and grinned in that way girls swore melted hearts._

"_Your secret's safe with me." She said more out of habit; she was, after all, the secret keeper._

"_I see you're avoiding telling me who you are." He observed, lifting the books in one hand as his other righted his glasses, the only thing that gave the impression that he was, or could be, something more than a shallow poser._

"_Oh, it's nothing purposeful. I'm not famous or anything but I think you might know my parents. Oliver Wood and Katie Bell." Melanie shrugged nonchalantly, hoping he would drop the subject._

"_Should I be offended that you still haven't told me who **you** are? Frankly, I don't care much about parents, family or all that stuff you can't choose for yourself." He looked at her keenly, making her fluster._

"_I'm Melanie." She replied shortly because she did not know what else to say. Telling him anything about herself was out of the question; she was too reserved for that._

"_Glad to meet you. You're a seventh year too, right? And a Ravenclaw, if you aren't wearing a fake tie to deceive people," Hearing her soft chuckle, he smiled, "And I'm pretty sure we had a Transfiguration assignment together in Fourth Year which I totally flopped and…I think you ended up saving the day. Thanks, by the way."_

"_Don't you think you're a **bit** late?" She narrowed her eyes dubiously, making him laugh._

"_So you do have a sense of humor under all those layers of timidity, huh?" Melanie looked at him, alarmed. No-one had pinned her like that before, and never within a few minutes of meeting her._

_By now they had reached the corridor leading to the Charms classroom. Melanie could see the crowd of students waiting outside and began walking faster when a hand at her wrist stopped her._

"_Melanie, one minute." Melanie looked at him with wide anxious eyes, wondering what was running through Albus' mind. She had heard quite a lot about him and none of it had indicated that he was anything less than outrageously bold and outgoing. But he was wary now, she could see that quite clearly in the way he gripped her hand; as if he was ready to let go at the first opportunity._

_Melanie raised an eyebrow in question as she bit her lip without realizing she was; a bad habit she had picked from watching one too many Quidditch matches with her father, no doubt, "I was wondering if you could help me out with Transfiguration again. I'm supposed to be great at it and all, what with my father and grandfather being who they are, but I'm sure the gene skipped me. So, could you?"_

"_I would, but it will be all over the school that you're taking tutoring classes or the like. You're always in the spotlight, Albus, I don't want the same thing for me."_

"_Maybe we could do this without people knowing? I wouldn't force this on you so much, but I do badly need the grades and my cousin has given up on me claiming that I'm trash at the subject." Melanie couldn't believe her ears; Rose Weasley, giving up on a person who needed help?_

_Though the very notion seemed ridiculous, Melanie nodded, making him grin, "Thank Merlin! I thought you'd say no too. Thanks so much. I'll meet you in the library at eight tomorrow. Is that all right?"_

"_Sure." He was gone before she could finish the word, waving once as he darted out of sight._

**_Hell_**_, was the only word running through her mind as she went inside the classroom._

Melanie laughed at the memory; Albus had later admitted that he had asked for her help only because he had wanted to see her again. No doubt he had been trying to compliment her, but it had made her smile stupidly all the same.

Shifting the books in her hand to her left, Melanie dug into her book bag until she found the copy of the book she had borrowed from the library. Deciding to do something useful while she was wasting time, Melanie began walking through the doors of the Library.

_The Library…Where they had first fought, and made up…_

**_A Solution of Dittany, with an excess of Gurdyroots may often cause boils to appear on the skin of the drinker and is capable of searing any object coming into contact with it._**

_Presently, pouring an imperfectly brewed cauldron of the potion over Albus Potter's head was dangerously appealing to Melanie. She had arrived at the library two days ago, flushed from having run the last few flights of stairs, only to see that the Potter wonder-kid hadn't made an appearance._

_She had waited long enough, hoping that he would come at some point. After an hour, she had picked up the nearest book at hand and had begun reading, only to be distracted by every person coming into the Library._

_Cursing the entirety of the Potter line, she had left the library frustrated and fooled. She must have been an idiot to even think that he had been serious. How many of his pranks had she seen? How many girls had she watched getting broken?_

_And the git hadn't even had the decency to apologise to her. It had been a few days since the incident, but Melanie was still fuming. She was at the library again, trying and failing to treat the books with her normal caution and care. She was in the mood to tear and snap, a miracle in itself._

"_Melanie?" The very object of her furious reverie stood before her, a sheepish expression on his face. He placed his books beside hers, taking a seat opposite her._

"_Potter? Nice to see you managed to put in an appearance, **three days later." **She went back to her books, unmindful of his steady gaze resting on her face._

_A defeated sigh caught her attention as he replied, "Look, I'm sorry. Really sorry; Rose reminded me at the last moment that I had a detention with Professor Longbottom. I barely had enough time to scramble. And the next day, one of my cousins landed herself in the Infirmary. I couldn't just leave her, could I? It's been a hectic few days with all my family coming to visit at odd times and I came here at the first opportunity I could get. And on top of all this, my cousin's apparently dating my best mate. Life seems to be quite complicated right now, and I'm just…sorry." He looked at her with such earnestly apologetic eyes that she smiled._

"_That's all right. I did hear something about one of your cousins getting hurt, but I guess I didn't listen much. Hope things get better for you, Albus." She placed a hand over his to reassure him, bestowing upon him a genuine smile, something she rarely ever gave anyone._

"_Thanks. Do you have to be somewhere now? Because if not, I was wondering if maybe you could teach me now? The library's almost deserted, and I doubt anyone would venture so deep in here." Melanie pushed aside the thoughts of the unfinished pieces of parchment lying in her bag; they could wait._

"_All right, we're dealing with Human Transfigurations now, right? Just the basics, and they're rather simple. Page 268." She watched as he opened the book and read the first few lines. Melanie had to admit that the explanation given in the book was a bit round about and even she had had a little difficulty understanding it. So it was no surprise when, a few minutes later, eyebrows scrunched together, Albus said, "None of this makes sense."_

_Turning her own copy of the book to the right page, Melanie read the sentence thrice before she understood the meaning, "Okay, this one talks about how transfiguring inanimate objects into animate objects is different from transfiguring them into inanimate ones."_

"_And how is that any different?"_

"_Look, suppose you transfigure a feather into a goblet, the goblet will stay where you want it to and you will not have any trouble turning it back. In case you are transfiguring the same feather into a rat, the rat once transfigured, will possess a mind of its own. It just might decide to run away from your sight and you will have to…"_

"…_run around the castle looking for it. I get that." Albus nodded, reading the book again._

"_And transfiguring humans into animals is even more dangerous than that." Melanie continued._

"_But how is that different from an Animagus?"_

"_Well, an Animagus, when transformed, still keeps his mind; he or she knows what they are doing. Transfigured people on the other hand, tend to develop a will of their own, once again, and that may lead to a few…complications." Whether it was her words or what he understood of them, Albus burst out laughing, almost drawing the attention of the librarian who glared once at the pair before disappearing around the adjacent isle. Melanie knew she was listening in by the murmurs she kept hearing._

"_What's so funny about that?" Melanie asked, shaking her head; honestly, she saw nothing much to laugh. The concept was funny, yeah, but not so much that he had to guffaw like that!_

"_You…you mean to tell me that if I transfigured Scor into a mouse, Rose would chase me to end of the earth, right?" Now, even she couldn't help but chuckle._

"_Is that your way of dealing with the problem of your cousin and your best mate? Well, now that you've got the basics so strongly, read the page and if you have any doubts, just ask me, okay?" Albus nodded solemnly, turning to his book._

_A few minutes passed like that until…_

"_Damn!" With a bang, Melanie placed the book on the table, the piece of parchment lying nearby fluttering. Albus looked up from his reading and cocked an eyebrow._

"_I just can't seem to remember the effects of bobotuber pus. It keeps slipping my mind." She indicated exasperatedly at the page of the book that lay open, slapping a hand on her head in irritation._

_Rotating the book to face him, Albus read the page for a few minutes, "Look, there's a rather easy way to remember this. Just imagine that you are mighty irritated with someone. You want to hurt them pretty badly. You find a goblet of bobotuber pus nearby and throw it at the person. What do you think will happen?"_

"_I'd probably get detention." Melanie replied curtly; she had no idea why he was asking such a stupid question._

"_No, no, no. You're thinking about the consequences. I'm asking about what immediately would happen. What would the person feel?"_

"_Anger?" Melanie snapped; she did not understand what he meant and thought he was wasting time._

"_Okay, clearly, this method isn't working. Now, close your eyes," At her skeptic expression, he added, "Just do as I say, I promise I won't hurt you." Melanie smiled; the thought hadn't even occurred to her and did as she was told._

"_Okay, now, you are standing in one of the Greenhouses. You're very, very angry with someone; so angry that you want to almost kill them."_

"_I don't get that angry." Melanie replied timidly and though she couldn't see, she knew Albus was rolling his eyes._

"_You are, just this once. And that person is standing right before you, making fun of you. What do you want to do?"_

"_Throw something at his face." Melanie replied tartly, surprising herself; she was never violent._

"_Good, now you have a cup of bobotuber pus in your hand. Throw it." Melanie nodded, imagining throwing it; it made her feel rather good._

"_So, what's happening now?" Albus asked in a whisper._

"_He's…he's spouting boils on his face. It's burning his face and it must be painful. His skin's turning red, oh no. No!" Melanie opened her eyes in alarm, staring uncomprehendingly at Albus for a minute before her eyes focused._

"_What was that?" She asked, shocked._

"_Your imagination, nothing else. You do see that you know the effects rather well now, don't you?" Albus smirked as realization dawned on her._

"_Yeah, yeah I do! Thanks! Where did you learn things like this?" Albus bestowed upon her a look so superior that she burst out laughing and he followed._

"_Ah, I just copied it off a Muggle Psych-whatever book that I once found at Rose's. It's been quite helpful to me over the years."_

"_How?"_

"_Well, you know who my brother is…"_

"_As if anyone could **not** know James Potter, prankster extreme," Albus chuckled, but added, "Don't be so quick to judge, he isn't that alone. But he used to be quite…intimidating when I was a kid. He thought picking on me would best show how much he loved me…" Albus stopped seeing Melanie's disbelieving look, "What?"_

"_You got intimidated?" Her voice was a little high from the incredulity sounding in it._

"_Yeah, I did! What's so unfathomable about that?" Melanie's expression was unfaltering and he studiously ignored it and continued, "So, as I was saying, I couldn't retaliate in any way. So I used to imagine playing all sorts of paybacks on him in my mind; gave me quite a lot of peace of mind."_

"_Oh, that must have been…tough. I meant with your brother," Albus shrugged, obviously uncomfortable talking about it anymore. Melanie recognized that and changed tracks, "But it is an effective method to study too, yeah?"_

"_Sure is but I had a queer sensation; that guy you threw bobotuber pus at, it wasn't me by any chance, was it?" Melanie only had a second to wonder how he kept a straight face while he asked that._

_Amidst uncontrollable laughter, she managed to choke out, "No, I don't think so."_

Melanie sighed in recollection, he had made her laugh so much; she had been so different with him, so happy. Why did she have to go and make things messy?

The next few weeks after that, she had seen the way he studied, and behaved; he relied on his instincts, but did not lose his mind in the process. He continued with the Psych-therapy as he called it, making her laugh like she had never before. She had opened up to him, told him her secrets, talked to him. And the most amazing thing had been that he had listened; not in the finish-soon-I-have-something-more-important-to-say way. He actually cared about what she had to say.

If she tried hard enough, Melanie knew she could still hear his low voice telling her about his childhood troubles with his brother and how he had overcome them. Memories washed over her and suddenly, the stifling aura of the library was too much for her to bear. She wanted to go away somewhere she wouldn't feel trapped; she wanted to fly away to the sky.

Since that seemed out of the question, Melanie settled for walking to the owlery. Only on reaching there did she realize that a most painful memory awaited her there. She had always wondered how anyone thought Albus was a hardheaded rogue. She found out clearly, a few months into their tutoring.

_The Owlery…Where it all went horribly wrong…_

_Melanie inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the dank smells that she sensed; anything was better than the din of gossip wafting around in the Great Hall. Melanie hadn't bothered to listen to it; she knew it would be something incriminating about some poor girl or guy, or a couple which was most often the case._

_The door to the owlery opened loudly and before she could comment on the person's hurry she saw who it was, "Hey Albus!"_

"_Hi, Mel. You're not at the Great Hall?" Something about his stance, something in his voice told her he wanted her gone; she should have obeyed her instincts._

"_No, I thought I'd get a bit of alone time. What about you?" She waved him over, looking at the castle through one of the holes made for the owls. Albus walked to stand beside her, leaning on the poles erected for owls._

"_Same; wanted a few minutes to myself." He folded his arms in a gesture she knew meant he was deep in thought. His eyebrows were scrunched, so that meant he was debating something. _

_Hoping to draw him out, she said, "Don't you think friends are the best things that could ever happen to a person? I mean, they stay with you at all times, help you when you need it, and are like the only people you need to be happy."_

_Instead of the usual smile and conceding words, Albus' frown deepened as he said, "Looks like you have a deluded version of friendship. It isn't a bed of roses, nothing ever is."_

"_What's that? Deluded? Don't tell me you actually believe that crap!" Seeing Albus' well-duh expression, she exclaimed, "I think you're the one that needs an attitude makeover. I mean, I don't have a host of friends myself, but Hepsy is all I could ever ask for in a friend."_

"_Right, as if she isn't going to backstab you at some point." Albus' eyes seemed alien to her; she had never seen them that way, shining cruelly and with anger. She thought she sensed a smudge of hurt but before she could find out, he averted his eyes, straightening._

"_Don't you dare talk about my friend that way, you…you…" She couldn't find a word good enough to insult him, her vocabulary throwing words that her mouth refused to say. So she stood fuming silently, glaring him down._

"_Tongue tied, Wood? Or did you realize that what I'm saying is true?" Melanie averted her eyes, she couldn't bear to see this side of him; the part of his reputation she had only wondered about._

_Striving to hold on to the steadiness of her voice, she replied, "I'll never believe that, Albus. You can fancy that the world is a horrible place with unfaithful and horrible people, I can't. I can never believe a person entirely foul. Or I couldn't, until you came into my life." Keeping her face turned to hide the tears coursing down her cheeks, she walked out the owlery, missing the look of sharp hurt that passed over his face._

Melanie took a deep breath to steady her heart; it was going faster than her father did in a Quidditch match. There was no Albus here now, only her and the tawny owl that cocked its head to one side and stared at her with its grey eyes.

"Hey you." She whispered and extended a hand, startling the owl. It took off, soaring over the Black Lake in a brilliant speck of yellow. Melanie watched it go, wondering why any person she reached out to walked away. It struck her that one thing was quite odd; the only person who _she_ had walked away from had been the only person who had come back, with a sincere apology and honest eyes.

Melanie turned her gaze beyond the birch tree, towards the forest, near which she knew a fountain lurked, unknown to anyone but her; and him.

_The Black Lake…Where the world was righted, once again…_

_Melanie wiped the traitorous tears away hastily; she wasn't a crybaby, she honestly wasn't. But this guy, she hadn't even known him that long!, was making her weep like a damned drama artist. It wasn't fair, but Melanie knew things never were._

_Why else would she be moping here, hiding away from her friend who would no doubt be concerned for her? Why else would she miss a git who had hurt her like that? What other reason could there be for her heart to start like that on seeing his profile in the distance?_

_Melanie closed her eyes, leaning against the fountain, the light spray of water from it doing nothing to calm her. She had to keep her eyes closed or she would invariably look at him. She couldn't look at him again; she could never swallow his malicious eyes ever again. She only had to wait for a few more minutes; he'd probably disappear to torture someone else any minute now and she'd be free…_

"_Melanie?" His hoarse voice startled her, his presence astounding her. She stared at him with wide eyes, mentally preparing herself for those sharp words she knew would come. He was an aberrant; she knew that now. She wouldn't make the same mistake again, never again._

_But there wasn't even a hint of anything remotely hurtful in his eyes; rather, they were looking at her with doubt, uncertainty and…was she imagining the affection and agony she thought she saw?_

"_Albus?" He sat on the grass before her, holding his hands around his knees. He refused to meet her eyes, staring at his entwined hands as they remained silent. It was only when she placed a hand on his knee that he looked up._

"_Please, Melanie, don't forgive me, please. I…I don't deserve it, the bastard that I've been. I had no right to take my frustration out on you, no matter how on edge I was. It was unfair and totally inhumane of me. I'm not going to apologise because I don't deserve a chance to make things right. I thought I was better at controlling my anger; obviously, I still need medical attention, as my brother says. And I should just stay well away from you…" Whatever else he was about to say was cut off by Melanie's chuckle._

"_Are you…are you arguing **my** side with **me**?" He looked at her so intently that she was afraid she would blow up. No doubt she had already passed several dozen shades of red._

"_You should loath me." He said finally, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. For one glorious moment, Melanie wondered if that was what had troubled him for an entire week. Only for a second though, after which her sense, which had thankfully returned to her, told her that she was being impractical._

"_I'm trying to be unbiased." Melanie shrugged, tugging on his hand until he moved to sit beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder, a position she had become familiar with over the weeks. It was only a small gesture, but it made her naively happy all the same._

"_You don't have to. I will go away if you ask me to." He looked at her so imploringly; Melanie knew she couldn't have said that even if she had wanted to._

"_I'm only asking you to tell me why the hell you were so ticked off that day." She felt his laughter shake his chest, but his voice was still grave when he spoke._

"_It's just…you know Rose and Scor are dating, don't you? As it happens, this has been going on behind my back for sometime now. On top of that, things are a lot more serious than I'd originally thought and they had made it seem like they were just casual flings or something. They love each other, I knew that, I could see that before, but…I was so afraid of becoming the third wheel…Dad had told me so much about it that…that I kind of repelled the idea from my mind. And then one day it all came crashing down on me and I blanched. I felt…victimized, you know? Betrayed…I kind of lost all faith in relations, family and otherwise. I was trying to hide in the owlery when you were there, talking about how friendship was lovely and sunny and I just…snapped at you. Trust me, I never meant to insult you or your friend personally. I was just…" His huff expressed quite clearly what he had been feeling._

"_I'm sorry," She slowly whispered, lifting her head to meet his confused eyes, "I shouldn't have provoked you like that."_

_Albus withdrew his hand, which she hadn't noticed had been around her, exclaiming, "Don't tell me you're apologizing for my pigheadedness. That's just…unbelievable, Mel! And here I thought you couldn't be any nobler."_

"_Oh hush, I did provoke you, and I am apologizing. And I do forgive you and I don't hate you. Do we have everything clear?"_

"_Just one thing left. I…uh, I got an E in the Transfiguration test." Albus admitted abashedly, making her chortle. She hugged him tightly, almost choking with laughter._

"_That's great, Albus! I'm so happy! I told you the subject wasn't all that evasive, didn't I?" She grinned, reflecting his expression._

"_Yeah, you did, but…you'll still help me out, won't you? I mean, I'm much better at Transfiguration, I can actually comprehend what the book says, but I'd appreciate it if you could, you know, still hang out with me?" It amazed Melanie that he could still be so insecure. Didn't he know by now that she enjoyed his company more than anything else? What had begun as a tutoring session was turning into something vastly more; for her at least._

_A sudden thought struck her; what if she was imagining things? What if he never liked her that way? Struggling to grasp the idea, she pulled away, saying, "Of course, Albus, I'd love to. In that case, I think this place would be ideal for practicing spells. Come on!"_

_She stood up suddenly, Albus catching her hand instinctively to make sure she didn't fall. She ended up falling on him, blinking her eyes in alarm as she realized the compromising position they were in. But Albus seemed impervious to her predicament, holding her around her waist as she spoke, as if he was afraid she'd run away, "Mel, there's something I need to ask, no tell, no it's a mixture of both. Would you mind listening?" Melanie nodded, looking at him curiously; what else could he have to ask, or say?_

"_Melanie, I know this is not the best time to…I mean, we've just got over a huge fight and all, but…this past week has been hell for me."_

_When Melanie began to speak, he placed a finger on her lips to stop her, "No, no, listen, please? Not because of all the problems I've been having with anyone and everyone. Of all the things messed up around me, I realize that the worst was that I missed you. It sounds crazy, but the past week made me realize that I kind of, liked you."_

"_Well, you'd better, after all the trouble I've gone through to…"_

"_Shh…I did not mean that. I meant, I, uh, like you. Like, really like you and, could you…" Melanie would claim afterwards that she had known what he would say, but as she closed the distance between them, all she could think of was that he was too damn cute for his own good._

"_I'm sorry, I…" Melanie found it hard to find words; she'd never mean them anyway._

"_I'm not. I think you just saved me from embarrassing myself completely. So, can I take that as a yes?" His eyes twinkled with unhidden mirth, and for once, Melanie saw that he was free from all the pressure pulling him down._

"_Only if you manage to transfigure your eyebrow to resemble mine." She rejoined as she jumped away from his embrace, challenging him. Albus laughed as he stood to join her._

"_Melanie?" She turned around, raising an eyebrow like he always did; he wasn't the only one learning things from the other, "I really am sorry. You let me off easily, but I can't forgive myself that soon. I, I swear things won't ever go berserk like that again." He looked so much like a lost child, Melanie thought as she hugged him, trying to reassure him as best as she could._

"_Let's call it a new start." She said as they pulled apart, cocking her head to one side questioningly._

"_A beginning? I like the sound of that," He grinned, highly amused, "So cliché."_

"_It's not cliché! Well come on, we have spells to practice." Melanie retorted as she dragged him out into what morphed into a playful duel._

And that had been that; a new leaf, a turnover. Melanie rested her head on the windowsill, losing herself in the various conversations and duels they had indulged in after that. And never did he fail to surprise her…

"_You're…eight and a half minutes late," Melanie glared as she looked at a breathless Albus. He leaned his hands on his knees and took deep breaths to calm himself down, "Is the best seeker in Hogwarts losing his grip?" Melanie grinned mockingly, but Albus just shook his head._

"_I swear Peeves gets faster by the day. He almost caught me. I had to walk through the fifth floor seven times through a thousand different tapestries before he got bored enough."_

"_Oh my, Albus! Sit down, you must be worn out. Shall I get you some water?" Melanie stood from her position beside Albus but he stopped her with a hand._

"_I'll be fine, just give me a minute. And, oh, I got you something," He fished around in his bag for a minute before lifting something out of it sheepishly, "Uh…I guess the rest of them fell away when I was running. Here."_

_Melanie took the single flower from his hand, exclaiming, "It's pretty and it is my favorite flower, but no roses or lilies?"_

"_I'm not giving you my cousin or my sister." He replied cheekily._

"_Albus! Be serious." Melanie admonished, trying and failing to stop her smile. She slapped his shoulder once, beaming when he shot her an affronted look._

"_When am I not?" Albus asked innocently, toying with a lock of her hair. She tried to swat his arm away, but he was too persistent. With a sigh, she gave up, curling into his arms._

_They stayed that way for the rest of the evening, enjoying the silence as much as they enjoyed their playful banter._

What she wouldn't do for a minute of that day now! Dabbing at the tears that had slipped despite her best efforts, Melanie noticed that it was nearing evening. She climbed down the stairs two at a time, running to reach the castle doors before it got dark. By the time she reached the Great Hall doors, a huge mob of people were entering and she sighed, relieved, joining them and making her way to the Ravenclaw table, expertly avoiding Rose Weasley who had been trying to corner her for the past few days.

"Hey stranger! Where have you been?" Hepsy asked as she slid in. Her eyes snapped to the Slytherin table, noting his absence, knowing exactly where he would be.

"I gotta go, Hepsy. Bye." Melanie stood and sending her friend a pleading glance, walked away from the Great Hall and all its vagaries; the memories were already closing in.

_The Great Hall…Where the mask fell away to ugly reality…_

"_Stop drooling, Mel." Hepsy whispered furiously as she ate her breakfast, waking Melanie up from her reverie._

"_Huh? What?" Melanie looked around, expecting to at least see the Great Hall on fire. Finding none, she turned irritatedly to her friend, "What did you say, Hepsy?"_

"_See, I told you this would take its toll on your intelligence! Look at you! You've been staring at Alb…his head," She corrected seeing Melanie's warning expression, "for the past five minutes and he hasn't even turned around once."_

"_He's revising for his Transfiguration test; I'm worried about him." She replied absently, poking her sausage while she tried to coerce Albus to turn around with her eyes._

"_How do you know that? You're **worried**? What's going on? Don't tell me…no, do. You got him to…"_

"_Yeah, we've been going out for a few weeks now." Melanie admitted, preparing herself for an onslaught of warnings._

"_That's great! So, when are you going to do the 'deed'?" Melanie blanched, completely surprised. She doubted whether it really was Hepsy, her friend who insisted on protecting her from everything._

"_What?"_

"_When are you going to break up with him? Oh my Merlin, I knew you could do it! Let the guy get what he deserves. I'd love to see how he acts; he needs a taste of his own medicine." Melanie, who had begun to retort, stopped short. Hepsy was right; she needed to carry her plan out, no matter what. It was just a dare anyway._

_Her heart rebelled at the thought but she firmly pushed it away. She would go ahead with the original plan, but Hepsy needed to know that Albus wasn't all bad. But how was she to prove it? He was the best, the most caring person she knew outside her family and Hepsy, but everyone thought the exact opposite. What would her words matter?_

"_In a few days, Hepsy. I need to be sure he cares for me. I'll do it after that." She reassured Hepsy, who left with a final warning._

"_Careful Mel, love can be very misleading. Just don't let him take advantage of it." Melanie nodded absently. She only wanted to look at him once._

_As he was leaving the Hall, he turned around, winked at her discreetly as he walked out. Melanie knew Hepsy's advice was of no use; she was already lost._

And she had lost him too, Melanie thought miserably as she hid in an unused classroom. Sneaking around the castle with Albus had taught her a few things; one of them being the ability to find deserted places.

After an hour of brooding, Melanie was reasonably sure she wouldn't burst into tears anytime soon; she could survive the walk to her dorms. She pushed away from the desk she had been seated on, lifting her book bag as she stepped out, only to come face to face with Jessica.

"Jess?" Melanie barely had the time to ask before she was engulfed in a tight hug that almost cut off her air supply.

"You were right, Mel, you were right! He does love me, he just…he just freaked out. I mean, men are supposed to be like that, right? Anyway, I only have you to thank for pushing me on. If it hadn't been for you, I'd probably have hid in the dorms for the rest of my life." Jessica exclaimed, her face alight with joy.

"I'm sure Brad would have found a way to sneak in." Melanie added lightly, making Jessica laugh.

"Sure, I'd like to believe that. I said I'd meet him at the commonroom. Bye, Mel and thanks!" Jessica barely had time to wave before she ran way, leaving Melanie alone again. Alone and desolate; _men are supposed to be like that, right?_

Slumped against the wall, sliding to the floor, Melanie saw why the corridor had seemed so familiar. It had been here that the biggest adventure of her life had happened; in that opposite room. Almost a month before everything had gone wrong in her life.

_The Classrooms…Where adventures happen all the time…_

_Melanie looked around carefully, rushing from shadow to shadow to hide. Months of tutoring Albus secretly had taught her stealth, if nothing else. Breathing a sigh of relief, Melanie entered the room, placing her bag on one of the non dusty desks; she knew Albus would be late, he had a test to finish and then he'd come back with a grin on his face and an E on his paper._

_Melanie felt the smile blooming on her face drop suddenly when the door opened, "Thought I'd find you here." Melanie panicked; it wasn't Albus who stood at the door. Dan Blakers, who had been the most feared student in the school before he had been expelled a few years ago; the circumstances for his expulsion had been unclear and Melanie hadn't bothered to know them. She knew her brother and him had had some arguments; and he was the vengeful kind._

"_What…what…" Melanie's throat choked with fear, her eyes moving to her cloak discreetly; a relieved sigh broke from her when she found the safe warmth that her wand radiated._

_Gripping it tightly, she waited for him to make the first move, "Oh, just a little payback for what your brother and your **boyfriend** did to me, getting me expelled," He advanced towards her and Melanie took several steps back, shocked, "Oh, I know all about the two of you traipsing around the castle furtively. I've been watching you."_

"_Albus?" of all that he had said, it was that that caught her attention, "What does he have to do with you being here?"_

"_Your dear boyfriend was the one that collected the evidence about my indulgence in the Dark Arts, giving it to your brother. It's funny how I could get back at the two of them by just hurting you. Lessens my work considerably." He explained as he shot a red jet of light that hit the table near her, making it explode into dust, clouding her vision. A few pieces scratched her skin and her dress, but she had closed her eyes instinctively so her eyes remained unhurt. Next she saw, he was but a foot before her, his eyes glinting murderously._

"_You deserved it!" She screamed in frustration, knowing she was digging her grave even deeper._

"_So do you, you…"_

"_Finish that sentence and you'll live long enough to regret it, but not longer than that, Blakers." Melanie sagged with relief when she saw who stood in the doorway._

"_Potter! Good, two stones in one throw. You and Wood contrived to destroy me, didn't you?" Seeing the lack of denial on Albus' face, Melanie blanched; her brother and Albus, really?_

"_Blakers, if you go without a fight…" She could see Albus circle the room carefully, nearing her in each step he took._

"_I damn well won't Pothead, so you better get ready to die!" Melanie saw the exact moment when the mad glint in his eyes turned lethal and began rushing to save Albus, but it was rendered unnecessary; she would have only got caught in the crossfire of the myriad of spells. She watched, fascinated, as they danced around each other, shooting spells, looking for that distraction that would decide the outcome of the duel._

_Melanie closed her eyes as a green jet of light soared from one of the wands. She was deathly afraid to see the outcome, but when minutes had passed and no maniacal laughter was heard, she began to hope enough to open her eyes._

_She was met with the sight of a smiling Albus, standing a feet before her, one hand twirling his wand in that manner he always did when showing off. She did not hesitate a moment to throw herself at him, the tears of exhaustion and nervousness finally overtaking her. Albus held her closely, being careful not to hurt her, soothing her._

"_Melanie, it's alright. Blakers' going to be handed over to the Aurors, you don't have to worry anymore. Your brother is fine too. He came to the castle after the trackers the Aurors had placed on him had alerted them and informed me. I was just going to meet you and take you somewhere safe before I went with them to chase him down, but then…Merlin, Mel, I was so damn terrified he'd hurt you!" His hold on her arms was so tight it hurt, but she didn't care; all that mattered was that he was fine._

"_Why did you have to duel him?"_

"_To save you?" He asked as if it was the simplest thing in the world, kissing her with warmth and tenderness._

"_Thanks." Melanie said earnestly and a frown appeared on his face._

"_You don't have to thank me, Mel. I'll always be there to protect you, only, I won't be so late the next time, and I'll try damn hard for there to not be a next time." She chuckled, feeling the tension drain out of her._

Her eyes opened suddenly; maybe there was a chance. Jessica had forgiven Brad, hadn't she? But then, Brad hadn't torn her heart into pieces…

But he had said he'd always protect her; didn't that include even from her own stupidity? But would he even look at her after she had impaired him like that?

But her heart was already made, set in stone as she hurried out the castle, her book bag forgotten.

XXXXXXXX

Melanie knew she was being pathetic, desperate, lovesick and every stupid thing in between. She _knew_ he'd be here; it was his favorite haunt and sometime during the past months, it had begun to hold a special place in her heart too.

It was, after all, where he had told her that he loved her and where she, like a true bitch, had thrown it back at his face, breaking him and her in the single act of ending their relationship.

But her steps were deceivingly firm and her hands did not shake even a little as she climbed the stairs to the tower. The Astronomy Tower where the classes had once been held; it was now unused, people preferring the other tower that had been built on the opposite side of the castle, closer to the main building than this one was.

He had always said he felt closer to the sky, closer to freedom, when he was here. More so than when he was flying; because here, there was no-one expecting him to catch the snitch; no need for him to fulfill anyone's expectations.

A safe haven…

_The Astronomy Tower…Where Love and Pain reigned side by side…_

_Albus sighed contently as he leaned against the wall, one arm around her shoulder as she rested her head against him. He was dead calm, and she was anything but. She knew she had to do something, soon, and she knew it would have to be now, before she lost her gut._

"_I think I could stay like here like this forever, you know, Mel?" His breath grazed her hair, making her shiver, "You aren't cold, are you?"_

_Melanie shook her head, saying, "I thought you liked an exciting life, Al. I don't think there's anything horribly thrilling about standing on an age old tower looking at the sky," She could feel him shrug as he replied, "Well, it is said that a few ghosts have been spotted at this place…"_

_Melanie stiffened; not that she was afraid of ghosts, Merlin knew there were enough in the castle. But what if one of them saw the two of them here, now? It would just be the thing to cause the greatest scandal ever. Melanie cringed as she thought of the various outcomes, not one of them making her feel any better._

_Albus' tone was mocking as he teased her, "Don't tell me you are afraid of ghosts."_

"_Of course not, what kind of a hypocrite would I be if I was?" Clearly, he thought she was fragile, when she surely wasn't._

"_Oh good then. I'd like to meet one or two sometime. Especially the ones I was named after." There was a hint of vindication in his tone that made her worry for the safety of those long dead people._

"_The late Headmasters? Whatever for?" She turned her head from the sky to look at him, and his hands immediately circled her waist, drawing her closer._

"_Oh, it's nothing big. I just want to ask them if they couldn't have had more normal names so that my name wouldn't sound like a nastier version of spattergoit." Albus' face was deadly serious, even as she laughed._

"_There's nothing wrong with your name. It's just a bit…unique, just like you." Melanie bit her tongue as the words slipped out; she still wasn't used to talking this freely; she wouldn't have to get used to it, if only she could gather her courage…_

"_Unique? Really, Mel, you delude yourself too much. I think the word people would agree with better would be…atrocious." He grinned at her, reminding her of the time he had been called that by the Headmistress after one of his pranks._

"_I like to believe you grew up." Truly, he had, anyone could see that. She placed a hand on his chin, drawing his eyes to her. She knew he'd never believe it. Underneath all the tough guy exterior, he was just as vulnerable as the next person. Melanie wondered if all men were like that._

"_And all because of you, I'm turning into a sap. I think I'd have laughed at myself if it had been a few months ago." The idea seemed to amuse him and a smile appeared on his too somber face. Now that she noticed, he seemed a bit edgy._

"_Are you alright?" He took a step away in surprise, but Melanie spotted the look in his eyes just as well; the look of a person stripped of his disguise._

"_Yeah, yeah I am. Why wouldn't I be?" He placed a hand on the balcony wall behind him and Melanie thought she saw just a hint of his hands shaking._

"_And why do I know you're lying?" Her hands moved to her hips in what Albus had termed her, "Mother hen" mode. Even as the thought made her smile, she held onto her composure._

"_I'm not lying! Of course not! I just…have a few things on my mind that would absolutely…freak you out." He drew her hands away from her waist, holding them in his hands and using them to draw her closer as his voice dropped._

"_Another idea for a prank?" Her heart beat frantically as she looked up at him. It was this side of him, this all too serious and righteous side of him that she couldn't hold herself against. Only this prevented her from doing what she knew she must._

"_Ah, I wish it was that simple. This is something…different. Not bad, exactly, not good either. Or I think not." His hand played with a loop of her hair but his eyes were fixed skyward, searching. Whatever it was he was seeking seemed to elude him and a discontented expression appeared on his face._

_Rising on her toes, Melanie smoothed out the crease that had formed between his eyebrows, bringing him back to earth. She looked at him questioningly, and a defeated sigh escaped him before he hugged her._

"_Promise me you wouldn't run away." Melanie barely heard him over the pounding of her heart. Suddenly, she had a stark idea of what he was going to say; and what she had to say in return._

_Break up…don't…do it…don't…the circle continued in her mind until she shut it out, staring at him intently, trying to forget all else, which wasn't a very difficult task anyway._

"_I won't." As if to prove it, she laced her hands around his neck._

"_Well then…I don't want to hide away like this anymore. I understand that you hate to be the centre of attraction, but how long do you think we can keep it like this? Don't you think it will be better if we go out like everyone else instead of someone finding out and spreading it throughout the school?" His voice was beseeching, his eyes imploring. It would have been almost easy to give in. To just accept what he was saying; he made perfect sense, in normal terms. But this wasn't normal, and Melanie knew it was now or never, "No."_

_A frustrated huff left Al as he moved away from her, his eyes seeking the heavens once again, "Why not, Mel? It's not as if people are going to eat you alive or something! And all the gossip will die down within a week, if it lasts that long in the first place."_

"_It surely will start again when we break up, won't it?" Melanie could feel the waves of shock move from him as he stared at her with wide, disbelieving eyes._

"_Break up? Why would we need to do that? You're just joking, aren't you?" Melanie sighed deeply, trying to gather the courage she could feel lying at her feet in shattered pieces._

"_Sadly, no. Albus, there's something I have to tell you. I should have done this a while ago, but I thought I could somehow make the truth disappear…It was a dare. I was dared to date you." If she had thought she would feel relieved, Melanie was quite mistaken. All she felt was an immense weight in her heart and a sense of loss she couldn't even fathom._

_Albus, on the other hand, wasn't feeling anything at all. He was too shocked, too hurt. Her words hadn't set in; he was resisting it with all his might. But of course, truth can't be denied for too long._

"_So it was all for a dare? Nothing else? But why drag it out for months then? And why hide?" He knew he was only trying to prolong what would surely come, but couldn't care less. It was pitiable that he was grasping at straws to prevent his girlfriend, he could call her that, couldn't he?, from dumping him, but she was Melanie, and he would be a fool to let her go like that._

"_I…I can't answer your questions, Al. Please, don't make this anymore difficult for me than it already is." Difficult? She had the audacity to talk about difficulty after all this…stupidity she was intent on staging?_

"_No, Melanie. I absolutely will not let this go lightly. You're just breaking up with me out of the blue? And don't give me that crap about a dare. It might be true," He added on looking at her affronted expression, but before she could get a word in, he continued, "Or not, I don't care, alright? I just…I love you, damn it! How do you expect me to act as if it means nothing to me?" Albus walked away from her, moving to the other side of the balcony._

_Melanie knew, it would have taken him heaven and earth to make such an admission. Albus Potter did not go about declaring his love for everyone he met and that only served to make her even worse._

"_Because it is what I want, Albus. Doesn't that matter?" Melanie broke off, her voice already breaking. She stood rooted to the spot, not willing to turn around and show him that she wasn't as collected as she portrayed. That would only make him even more resolved that she was making the wrong decision._

"_Of course it does. But there can be times when we aren't sure about what we want, aren't there?"_

"_Maybe, but this isn't one." With a deep breath to calm her nerves, Melanie turned around, sure that she could maintain the uncaring exterior now._

"_Why? Just tell me why, and I'll leave." She could see the desperation in his eyes as plainly as she could feel her misery, but she had to persist. She did not give up that easily; she wasn't a weakling who could be swayed like a bit of grass on a breeze._

"_Something's missing. I can't exactly say what, but it's always there, making me feel sorry about deceiving you. I can't take that any longer." It cost her a lot to say that, say the biggest lie she ever had or ever will. She felt nothing less than complete whenever she was with him; she seemed to be unable to comprehend a world without him in it, but those thoughts weren't going to help her complete her task._

"_Isn't love enough for you, Melanie?" Albus knew there was nothing more to say, but he did anyway, if only to look at her face for a few more minutes._

"_I'm afraid not. Sorry." With that useless apology, Melanie hurried away from the place, burying her tears in the darkness. She had won; she had proved that she was not a slacker. But she had never known success tasted so bitter or that it could be so painful._

"What are you doing here?" He asked without turning, bracing his hands on the low wall, gripping them tight. Melanie stopped in her tracks, not sure how to proceed. It was all well and good that she had set out to apologise to him, but she might as well have tried to walk through the Forbidden Forest with a blindfold for all the direction she had.

"Why? Should I have some acceptable reason to be here? Will you not allow me if I didn't? Why are _you_ here, by the way?" She had once heard that offence was the best defense. She had never understood the meaning until today.

"I fail to see why I should answer to you. If you have come to drive it in that you have succeeded in making a fool of myself, go ahead. Mock me all you want. Otherwise, just leave me the hell alone. I know you don't care the least bit about me, but stay away from me, if only for your own safety." His voice was a low growl, threatening, dangerous. All she felt was a weird sense of calm and security, maybe because she, foolishly, believed that he could never hurt her.

"Whoever said I came to see you? I might have come to enjoy the night, just like you have," His sardonic chuckle told her how much he believed her. Shaking off the unnerved feeling his presence gave her, she strived on, "Or maybe I like looking at the stars." It was her one hope; if he didn't react to that, Melanie knew she had well and truly lost him.

"You never were interested in them, Melanie." Skepticism; she knew she would have to face it, but that didn't make it any easier.

"You made them seem so to me." She hadn't thought of what she was saying, but now that she did, she knew it to be the truth. Of course Albus made even the simplest things seem interesting; because he was Albus, and she loved him.

"Yeah, because I was also making a damn fool of myself at the same time. Tell me, Melanie, did you and your friends titter over how easily I was fooled?" His expression was pained; Melanie had to hold her hands firmly by her sides so that she wouldn't rush to assure and comfort him. Her nails dug into her palms as she resisted the urge to make that gloomy atmosphere around him go away; she simply couldn't tolerate seeing it around him.

"I don't have many friends to giggle with." She whispered as she walked towards him. She had never seen him step back, before now. It would have been almost funny, if her heart hadn't been on the line.

"Just Smith, then. How much does she know?" She ignored his hand that held her at arm's length, moving into the circle they made. It was a queer sort of homecoming that she had no time to enjoy, but recognized all the same.

"Only that I dated you and broke up with you. She somehow thinks you hurt me." He inclined his head to one side, leveling her with a calculating look that she fought to keep.

"That's absurd." His eyes turned wary when she tried to move away from him. His hands, which had so far rested by her elbows, tightening to stop her from going any farther.

"I know. She thinks that even after I told her that I broke things up with you. That makes no sense whatsoever." The ringlets of her golden strands bounced as she shook her head. Albus unconsciously curled his fingers around one of them.

"No, that's not what I meant. Me hurting you is something impossible. I just can't ever bring myself to do that." He was so casual, so sincere, and altogether too loving; it almost brought tears to her eyes.

"Albus! I'm so sorry." She hugged him fiercely, not caring if he would push her away or not. He stayed frozen for a minute and Melanie had just enough time to panic that her worst nightmares had come true when with a sigh, he drew her closer to him.

"It's alright." With that one word, miraculously, her world seemed to have righted itself. The moon shone, the breeze blew and there was no place on earth more beautiful than the dusty old tower.

"You shouldn't have this much sway over me." His voice was repentant, almost whining, that she couldn't help but smile.

"No I shouldn't." She agreed complacently, nestling into the circle of his arms.

"I shouldn't just forgive you like that."

"No, you should have made me suffer." Melanie consented again, lifting her head to make sure he was still joking.

"But I love you too much for that." Melanie was sure his face was going to be torn from the grin that took up his face.

"And that's enough." She closed the distance between them.

Above, the stars twinkled, proud that they had played their part in bringing them together.

A/n: The crappiest story in the entire collab, there you go!


	15. Fred Weasley II: 2

**character/pairing: **Fred & Fred/OC

**written by**: LoonyLovegoodLuvr/ Loony or Roma

_Dear Fred,_

_Your father and I just got a letter from Professor Pillsbury saying that you are failing Muggle Studies, History of Magic and Potions. We both agree that that is not a good way to start off the year. If you are going to work in somewhere other than your father's shop, you need to have decent grades. And no, an A does not count, even if it does stand for Acceptable. Your father says that he wants you to do something in life, and I agree._

_So we have gotten you a tutor. Do you remember little Karen Stebbins who we used to have over for tea when you were younger? Auntie Verity's daughter? Apparently, she has remarkable grades and is in Ravenclaw. She's a very sweet girl and I'm sure you two will get along splendidly. You two will meet on Tuesday evenings in the library, and if I here that you've missed just one, you'll have me to deal with. Got it?_

_Love,_

_Mum and Dad._

_P.S. Look Fred, I know school's been rough for you, and you think it will just be easier to work in my shop, but I want you to make something out of your life. Really. Mum isn't standing over my shoulder this time. We had a talk, and I realized that as good a shop owner you would be, you're my son, not my brother, and I've got to take care of you. So really try with Karen, okay?_

_Love,_

_Dad._

Fred groaned and leaned back dangerously off the bench at the Gryffindor table. He crumpled the letter and tossed it aside. "Mum and dad want me to get a tutor," he complained to his best friend Jacob. "Apparently working in the shop isn't a decent life choice anymore." He let out a disgusted sigh. "Even Dad bailed."

Jacob looked up from his book and grinned teasingly at him. "Well maybe if you get a tutor, you'll finally give a damn about the O.W.L.s; you certainly need to. I doubt a row full of fat Ps will win over any employers."

Fred punched his friend's shoulder good-naturedly and tossed a roll at him. "You're supposed to be on my side here! You can't just sit there with a book and expect me to suddenly fall in love with reading and smart stuff and all that." His face deepened into a scowl. "I don't see why you can't just be my tutor. You'd certainly be a better teacher than whatever nerdy Ravenclaw Mum and Dad can throw at me."

Jacob held up his book to block the offending pastry. "Not all Ravenclaws are nerds, mate," he said, glancing over at the table, whose occupants were glaring at Fred. "Who knows, she could be hot." Noticing that the roll had fallen onto his plate, he took a bite. "Poin' 'er ou' o me," he mumbled, his mouth full.

Fred rolled his eyes. "That's gross, mate," he said, but obligingly swiveled his legs over the bench so he was facing the Ravenclaw table. "Erm, I haven't seen Karen in about 7 years, but I'm pretty sure that's her. Or maybe not, she looks too young. Oh, there she is." He pointed to a girl with blonde hair in a ponytail that was scanning the text of a novel. Every once in a while, she would look up at her friends and smile at a joke. "Yeah, that looks like her, I recognize her smile."

"Ooh, you remember her _smile_," Jacob teased. He looked her up and down and gave a shrug. "She's not that bad-looking," he conceded. "Maybe it won't be so bad."

Fred scowled, "It will be bad if she does anything patronizing. Just because I'm not doing that well, doesn't mean I'm dumb." He looked at her again. "She seems like the type to think she's smarter than everyone else. When we were little, she would always charm my parents into thinking she was this little genius."

Jacob raised his eyebrows in surprise at Fred's bitter assessment of the girl. "Was she?" he asked carefully. He didn't want to offend his friend at all, but he wanted to know if Fred's hatred was simply of the situation or if it was the girl. He too looked at the girl. "She doesn't seem that bad," he said, watching his friend's reaction.

He shrugged. "She could _sound_ smart, if that matters at all," he said, glaring at her. "Compared to her, I seemed like I'd just learned how to use the bathroom standing up."

Jacob snickered at the image of the girl at age 7, reciting Golapatt's Law and Fred just sitting there, looking shocked. "You need to relax," he told him. "You have to get a tutor. So what?" He punched his shoulder, "You're still my best mate."

Fred grudgingly gave a smile. "Thanks." The smile disappeared just as quickly as it came. "But I have to meet with her during free period right after I eat, to have a 'get-to-know-each-other session', and she's supposed to try teaching me something to see if she actually can." He rolled his eyes, "Bet you five galleons she cries when she gets her tutor position revoked."

Jacob shook his head in exasperation at Fred. "What if she actually teaches you something?"

Fred glared at her. "That's not gonna happen, mate. She'll be lucky if I even talk to her. In fact, if I change my view on school at all, feel free to shoot an Avada at me."

Jacob looked back over at the girl, who had pushed her glasses on top of her head and was animatedly explaining something to a guy sitting next to her. The guy, who was apparently her boyfriend, grinned broadly in understanding, kissed her on the forehead and walked away, waving. She pushed her books back into her bag and stood up, straightened her skirt and began walking over to the library. He grinned and turned back to Fred. "Oh but Fred dearest, how could I ever live without you?"

Fred grabbed a glass of pumpkin juice and held it threateningly over Jacob's book. "You want to take that back?" Jacob just laughed and threw a kipper at him. Fred munched it and grinned, "Thanks, I'll need it if I'm going to survive tutoring." He looked at the giant clock on the wall stood up. "Speaking of which, I should probably go to the torture session. Wish me luck!"

He wandered to the library, occasionally shooting spells at paintings and suits of armour. If he was going to be stuck in class during free period, he had to at least have fun while he was on the way. Passing through the trophy room and into the library, he looked for Karen. She waved at him nervously from a table in the back and he rolled his eyes as he sauntered over.

"So I thought that we could start with some Potions theory," Karen suggested nervously as she greeted him. Fred just glared at her. He hated everything about her: her black and turquoise glasses, her shoulder-length blonde hair that flipped out slightly at the bottom, the perfectly creased cuffs on her snow-white button down, her regulation length skirt, her black patent leather shoes with bleached socks folded neatly over her ankles, but mostly the fact that she was _asking _him what he wanted to do, and not being at all horrible and stuck-up.

At his cold silence, she laughed nervously and sat down in a nearby table. "Um, well, if you wanted to do Muggle Studies, that's okay too." He continued to glare at her, and didn't sit down. How dare she be kind to him after he'd just been a rude arse? Did she somehow think that she was being the better person by being nice? Because if that was the only reason she was being kind, he wasn't going to speak the whole time. She looked at him confusedly, and opened her mouth to say something then shut it. She opened it again, and that time, words actually came out. "Look Fred," she said fiercely. "I get that you don't want to be here, and that you'd rather just fail all your classes and work in your father's shop, but if you don't try, so help me Merlin, I'll-I'll-I'll tell your mother!"

His cold façade of anger shattered for a few seconds as he looked at her in shock. He hadn't pegged her to be the type to snap like that. He couldn't help but laugh at her attempt to threaten him (she looked like an angry teddy-bear). "You think I'm scared of my mum?" he asked patronizingly, and almost fell over at her fierce reply.

"Yes I do," she hissed. "I saw your expression when she sent you that Howler last month. And, and, and-" she was starting to get red in the face, "-you try to put on this _act_that you don't care about what your parents think, but all you want is for them to love you for who you are. And that's the real reason you're so resigned to me tutoring you. You think that they're trying to change you!" She glared at him stubbornly, and he got the feeling that she thought she'd done a great thing, and he was going to start crying and admitting everything. Well, she was in for a surprise.

"You think you know me?" he hissed back (looking 100% more threatening). "You think that just because you used to come over to our house and charm my parents, and because you've occasionally gossiped about me to your friends, you know me well enough to say all that? Well news to you, sweetheart, you don't know _anything._" He glared back at her, his sides heaving, and she looked at him, frightened.

"Well," she said, looking like she was about to cry, "I'm sorry for assuming things that I didn't know were true about you. I shouldn't have tried to make generalizations." She picked up her bag and pulled it over her shoulder. "Since these tutoring sessions obviously aren't going to work out, I'll just leave. " She began to head out the door, her previous peppy demeanour gone.

He watched her go, feeling something twinge in his heart. Why did he have to be so mean? "Wait!" he called out to her. She spun around, looking hopeful. He smirked; this girl really did like teaching. "If I, uh, tried out this tutoring thing, will you stop looking like a dejected puppy? I feel kinda bad for yelling at you." She smiled and ran back. Giving him a big hug, she whispered her thanks over and over. He looked at her, perplexed. Why was she so happy that she had to spend _more _time with him? "I think you have something more than just tutoring me riding on this thing," he said suspiciously.

She blushed and pulled away from him. "Well, I want to teach here when we graduate, and I want to have experience. I mean, I've helped my friends study before, so I'm not _entirely _inexperienced, but I'd like to actually teach someone, you know?" she rambled on, then blushed even redder. "I'm sorry, I just get really excited when I think about teaching. It's my passion. Do you have a passion?"

He looked at her in surprise. Why would someone want to do something that involved staying at the school? Although it was true that he couldn't really imagine her doing something anywhere else. Already, after only reuniting for about 5 minutes, he got the feeling that she was fragile. She seemed like the type that would break if anyone so much as yelled at her. Which, he thought guiltily, he had already done. He was determined not to let anyone else hurt her; she was too innocent.

"Fred?" she asked, and he shook himself. Right, he was supposed to say his "passion." Thinking about it, there wasn't anything he really was passionate about. There was his pranking, but that was really just because he couldn't think of anything else to do that didn't require that much brain power.

"Um, I dunno, pranking I guess," he answered, scratching his head confusedly. "I'm not really a passionate person, I guess."

She looked at him disappointedly. "But there's got to be something that you really enjoy!" she persisted. "You know, something that makes you happy when you do it."

He looked at her, feeling as though disappointing her was a crime. "Um, well, I guess there's Uncle Harry's motorbike…" Damn. Why did he say that? That was his secret, and he couldn't just tell anyone (He tried to ignore the little voice in his head saying that Karen wasn't just "anyone" anymore). "I kind of like repairing it, and flying it, and you know, all that." Shut up, shut up, shut up, he told himself. Not even Jacob knew that.

She looked at him in surprise and he got the feeling that telling her wasn't the best idea. "That's really cool!" she squealed. "I've never met someone who wasn't muggle-born who liked muggle vehicles!" Suddenly, something lit up in her eyes. "Why don't we start off our first lesson with that?" She looked down at a sheet of parchment that she had pulled out of her bag. "It says here that Muggle Studies is your best subject out of the three that you and I need to work on, and you understand the theory, but you need to work on the reading. Is that right?"

He looked at her, surprised that she had even bothered to ask him. "Well that's what it says on the sheet, isn't it?"

She laughed a tinkly bell-like laugh and smiled at him. "Well obviously it says that on the sheet, but I want to hear it from you! What do you feel we need to work on?"

He shrugged; bewildered that someone cared about his feelings. "I dunno, the reading I guess. I'm not very good at reading, so it's kind of difficult for me."

She put the quill in her mouth and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "Go on," she said, her voice muffled by the quill. "I'm just going to write it down as you talk."

He watched her with a quirky little smile on his face. "So you're going to teach me based on what I say?" he asked, a bit confused. He cringed; maybe she would think that he was stupid because he couldn't seem to understand what she was talking about.

She looked at him, unfazed by his apparently stupid question. "Yes. Why should I bother teaching you if I don't know how you learn?" She looked at him as if the way she was teaching was completely reasonable and common. He just shook his head, amazed. This girl was something else. How could someone so sweet and innocent become this mature while teaching? "But don't make yourself out to be stupider than you are so I'll teach you slowly, it won't work. I'll be able to tell."

"Well…" he started, still a bit gobsmacked by her teaching methods. "When I try to read, the words just mix up, and the letters float around. I can't always tell what the word is, so it makes understanding the reading hard for me." He hadn't ever really thought about it before. The professors hadn't ever asked him.

She made a note and smiled up at him. "Well Fred, what if you think of it like this?" She showed him a diagram that she'd drawn on the parchment. It looked familiar to him, and he looked at it closer. It was the engine of a motorbike. But the cords were all mixed up. "So you know what the final image should look like, right?" He nodded. "So show me where each wire should go. He pointed them out to her, feeling slightly childish. But she certainly couldn't be making fun of him, right? Sure enough, he was right about the wires, and the final image looked like the one he had drawn. "So think about it this way," she said, looking quite excited at her discovery. "Each cord is a letter. If you can figure out where each letter goes, you can complete the engine, right?"

He rolled his eyes. "Karen, if you're trying to speak to me in terms I understand, there's no need. I get what you're saying. If I untangle the letters, I'll get the final word. The problem is, I don't _know_ the final word."

She beamed, looking even more excited. "But that's just it! What if you could recognize the mixed up engine's meaning, instead of the fixed engine? We'll just teach you the mixed up meanings, and you won't have to worry anymore!" She looked proud, and he couldn't help but feel proud too. He was going to read and understand what the book was talking about!

Later that night, he sat in an armchair by the fire, studying the list of words that she'd given him. She'd explained that if she gave him the regular words, no matter what mixture they turned out to be, he'd be able to recognize them. He passed his wand over one word and heard her voice clearly define it. He smiled and thought about it, ingraining it into his memory, as she'd called it.

"Do you want me to help you with the Muggle Studies homework?" Jacob asked, walking up behind him.

Fred smirked at him. "No, I'm already done. I did it in tutoring." He decided to surprise Jacob just a bit. "_Karen_ helped me."

Jacob did a double-take, then grinned. "So it went well, huh?"

Fred smiled down at the parchment. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." It had definitely gone better than just "well," but he didn't want anyone else to be able to share that small bubble of happiness that was floating in him.

"YES!" Jacob crowed, leaping around the Gryffindor Common Room. He rolled around on the rug in front of the fire, laughing. "You owe me 5 galleons!" Fred just smiled and handed over the money. His parents weren't mad at him, he had a new friend (one of the sweetest girls he'd ever met) and he was beginning to be able to read. He would pay 100 galleons for that.


End file.
